Fighting the Night
by Trish47
Summary: Elizabeth Turner is trying to lead a noraml life. A vampire with evil intentions has other plans for her and her family. Will he succeed in destroying all she holds dear? Read to find out. Set 7 years after AWE. Rating for violence in later chapters. R&R!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters. I am making no money off of this story.  
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Summary: Basically Elizabeth, her seven year old son, Thomas, Jack, Gibbs, and Will have to battle against an evil entity that is set on avenging atrocities done to him and his family. Elizabeth and her friends must flee and fight for their lives, all while trying to figure out how to take down their enemy. I don't want to give away too much. Warning: some characters will die! This is largely action and sci-fi, but there are other genres included as well. Such as: Romance/adventure/drama/tragedy. Some scenes may not be suitable for younger readers. You have been warned.

Enjoy!

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**Prologue**

Seven years. Had it really been that long? It was hard to imagine that seven summers and nearly as many winters had passed since Elizabeth Turner had last seen or spoken to her husband, William.

Her husband wasn't dead or a criminal rotting away in a prison cell; he was sailing the seas as the captain of the _Flying_ _Dutchman_. She knew he had had no choice in becoming the captain of the devil ship. After all, he had been on the verge of death. Thinking back to that horrible moment made Elizabeth shiver in the darkness. She had nearly lost him forever…but was her situation so much different now? Will couldn't set foot on land for a decade at a time, and even then it was only for a day.

Elizabeth silently cursed the goddess Calypso, the source off her and Will's suffering. If it weren't for her and her orders that the _Dutchman _must always have a captain, she and her husband would be together right now. Instead, within hours of celebrating their wedding vows, Will and Elizabeth had been forced to part ways so that Will could see to his newly appointed duty.

Now, Elizabeth missed his presence, the bright smiles that he flashed her way at random moments, running her fingers through his silky and unruly hair, and just having him next to her. Those seven years had been a rather lonely time for her, and she still had three more to go before she could be reunited with her beloved. Even though the practical woman knew that Will was out there somewhere, she felt like part of her was missing.

Still, those seven long years hadn't been completely unbearable. Her son, Thomas, kept her busy and made her days happier.

It was only at night that she felt terribly alone, and recently on edge and afraid. Tonight was not the first night that the slender woman in the cottage doorway had been woken by her nightmares. And the night terrors were not the only things keeping her senses on high alert. Strange things and odd feelings had been making her increasingly paranoid. These feelings, combined with her nightmares made Elizabeth think something bad was going to happen.

Yes, something evil was coming. She just didn't know what, but she intended to find out before her, or her son, got hurt. For some unexplainable reason, the logical woman knew whatever was about to happen had something to do with her and her family.

The only question was what.

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_Author's Note: _Okay so this was extremely short. The other chapters will be longer than this. This was just a little intro. I will continue to update often, since this story is already finished. I hope you continue to read. Please review so that I know what you think. Even if you have constructive criticism, I'm more than happy to listen to what you have to say. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 1: The Nightmare's Begin

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Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters. I am making no profit off of this story.

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_Author's Note: Here's the first real chapter. I hope you like it. Don't forget to leave me a review. Thanks!_

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**Chapter One:**

**_The Nightmares Begin_**

Elizabeth did not let the eerie feelings—as if she were being watched, odd noises, and a growing sense of dread—stop her from completing her everyday tasks and chores. She made a modest dinner for Thomas and herself, washed her aprons and Thomas' shirt, and put her son to bed with a story that he often requested—how his mother and father had met.

She kissed his forehead after recounting the tale and went into her own bedroom, wiping away the tears that had come to her eyes. She had barely been able to tell her son the story in its entirety without crying, but somehow she had managed to keep the unwelcome tears from overwhelming her until now. She didn't want her son to see her cry. What kind of a role model would she be for Thomas if she became hysterical over a story? No, she wanted her son to see the woman she once was, a strong willed, often stubborn, woman who did as she pleased and didn't care about the social customs or traditions of the time. Although she knew Will's absence had taken an emotional toll on her, she still fancied herself as being that same woman; the Pirate King whom all other pirates feared and respected. That was the image she wanted her son to see.

Elizabeth's sparsely yet comfortably furnished room was empty, as it always was. Sliding into her cotton nightdress she slipped under the covers. The tired woman drifted off into a fitful sleep. Soon she was dreaming, but her dream was anything but pleasant.

It was so realistic that Elizabeth all but forgot she was dreaming. She could feel the wet grass beneath her feet and the raindrops falling on her face and body. An array of smells—including the strong smell of cow manure—assaulted her nostrils, and she could see the angry mob approaching the tiny farmhouse, torches blazing and curses being shouted. She ran to the farmhouse, clumps of sticky mud splashing up from her footfalls and planting themselves on the bottom of her nightdress. Her dream-body passed right through the wooden structure as the enraged mob barged through the door, splintering the wood and sending debris flying in all directions.

The farmhouse was a humbly built three room structure. At the commotion, coming from where the men had brutally entered the house, a large man dressed only in a nightshirt and breeches came out from a back room, his eyes bleary with sleep and his movements slowed from just waking up.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" he shouted.

"Be careful Stephen," a cautious feminine voice stated from behind him. A tiny woman emerged from the darkness and came out to see what was going on. She looked frightened and confused by the presence of the mob. Regaining her sense of propriety, she stood behind the man, who Elizabeth supposed was her husband, trying to shield her indecently covered body from view as much as possible.

Stephen did not heed his wife's words and shouted his question at the assembled men again, making some of the more nervous characters flinch and shrink back from his anger.

"You're both going to die, you monsters!" someone shouted from the back of the crowd.

The woman gasped in horror, grabbing and clinging to her husband's nightshirt, her eyes going wide with fear. Her husband wrapped a protective arm around his wife and took a few steps backward, astonished by the proclamation, but his anger was still evident in his glare.

"Hush," another voice chided in an authoritative tone. The speaker stepped forward from the crowd so he could address the couple that was now cowering in the corner. "First I must charge them. Then they can be lawfully executed." The relatively young-looking man cleared his throat before continuing. "I, George Swan, Governor of Port Royal…"

Elizabeth gasped as she suddenly recognized her father when he was in his late thirties. From the gleaming medallions on his jacket, she deduced that he had recently been appointed governor.

"…hereby sentence both of you to death on the charges of conspiracy to commit murder, and two counts of murder. Of course we can't formerly charge you for being the devils you are, but these charges already condemn you to death. Your sentences are to be carried out immediately."

"But we haven't done anything!" the woman cried out as her husband pushed her farther behind himself. For some reason, Elizabeth vehemently believed that the woman was telling the truth. These two farmers were not bad or evil people; only victims. "We haven't killed anyone! Please!"

Her pleas and claims fell on deaf ears.

"You can burn in Hell as God intended! Be gone from this world, dark ones!" another person from the mob shouted.

A cheer went up from behind her father and two men charged forward, lowering their torches like lances, aimed to kill. Elizabeth dropped to her hands and knees to avoid being speared, but the two men ran right through her since this was only a dream; a horrible, horrible dream.  
"No!" she cried, but no one heard her.

The men went after Stephen first, who had no defense except his hands, and although he tried to get in a few punches, he was easily overpowered by the other men. One of the mob members rammed a wooden stake directly into the man's heart. His screams of agony doubled as the other man set Stephen's clothes ablaze. Both Stephen's wife and Elizabeth were wailing over the atrocity before their eyes.

Then, as Stephen slumped lifelessly to the ground, the two men turned their attention on the poor woman. She tripped as she tried to retreat, falling to the ground. Immediately the men pounced on her like frenzied dogs, stabbing her in the same manner as her husband before also setting her on fire. Elizabeth's mind felt numb. She was so disturbed and upset that she was shaking uncontrollably. She couldn't have moved from where she was if she had wanted to.

How could her father have ordered such horrendous executions for two, seemingly good-natured, farmers?

The air was filled with the sounds of victory and the putrid smell of burning flesh. Elizabeth gagged on the odor, but was distracted by a man's voice rising above the cheers and praises.

"Sir! The boy got away! He's taken off into the cornfields. What should we do?" Again, Elizabeth gasped as she realized who the speaker was: a very young Mister Gibbs, before he was a pirate. Why, he couldn't be any older than she was now.

"We must not let him escape! Hurry men! We must find and kill the creature!" With a final shout, they left the farmhouse and the mutilated bodies behind to pursue the boy that had escaped their clutches.

Elizabeth found herself hoping that the boy got away from the mob and her father safely.

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_Author's Note: In case you didn't pick up on it, Governor Swan was accusing the two farmers of being vampires. According to some Internet sources, there was a vampire scare sometime around 1730 which is roughly when I placed the movies taking place. Again I will be updating soon. Keep reading please!_


	3. Chapter 2: The Unexpected Visitor

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters. I am making no profit off of this story.  
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**Chapter Two:**

**_The Unexpected Visitor_**

Elizabeth woke up in a puddle of sweat, breathing as if she had just run a great distance. She couldn't push the horrific images from her nightmare out of her mind. What was worse was that she was starting to think her nightmare had actually taken place. How else could she explain her father's presence? That and the fact that every aspect of her nightmare was so realistic. None of her other dreams had come remotely close to feeling like this one.

Still shaking from the awful vision, she rose from her bed and floated outside in a daze. A moderate sea breeze blew over her damp flesh and flattened her cotton nightdress against her body. She shivered at the cool early-morning air.

This was her third time having the same nightmare. Each time it became more violent, more grotesque, and more unnerving. This time she had discovered that her father had had a hand in brutally murdering the helpless farmers.

She hugged herself in an attempt to calm her nerves, but it didn't work. Her feet automatically started walking down the grassy slope of the hill her cottage rested on, leading her to the shoreline of the ocean located just beyond her home. She stopped when she felt the cool waters wash over her bare feet.

Tonight's nightmare had left her more shaken than usual. It was times like this when Elizabeth longed and wished for her husband, Will. She wanted him there with her, to calm her uneasy feelings, to soothe away her fears. But the ocean was as close to him as she could get; it was as close as she could manage for the past seven years and tonight was no different.

Yet, there was something about the melody of the waves crashing into the coast and the gentle way those powerful waves lapped at her feet that was able to calm her down. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Will standing behind her. The wind blowing off the ocean became his warm breath against her neck, the water became his gentle, yet reassuring touch, and the sound of the waves became his loving words of encouragement.

But then she would open her eyes and the reality of her situation would take over. She was always, utterly alone; a tired and lost woman wading in the ocean, feeling and looking as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. She hated that feeling more than anything.

Elizabeth opened her eyes with a drawn-out sigh, refusing to let her emotions get the best of her. She needed to figure out the meaning behind her nightmares. A dreadful knot grew in the pit of her stomach as she thought and reflected, for she had an overwhelming feeling that these nightmares had something to do with the negative feelings she had been sensing all this time.

She continued to ponder over her frightening dreams in a trance-like state until the sun could be seen on the horizon, tinting the sky with orange and yellow rays of morning light.

Putting her worries and thoughts aside, she decided she should be getting back to her home and her son. Thomas would already by up and she didn't want him to become concerned, although this wasn't the first time he had been left home alone. She knew her son wouldn't get into too much trouble in her absence.

She turned and slowly started walking back up to her cottage, making a mental list of everything she needed to do that day. Suddenly she heard hoof beats. A number of hoof beats. They seemed to be in a hurry, and they seemed to be heading right for her home.

"Thomas!" she cried, racing as fast as she could to the top of the hill. Her gut instincts told her that these riders weren't coming for a peaceful, pleasurable visit. Hardly anyone came to her cottage just to drop by and say hello; it was too secluded and out of the way for anyone to bother. And when she did have house calls, the visiting party always sent word ahead of time.

She found Thomas tracing figures in the dirt with a stick, innocently oblivious to the approaching riders. She grabbed him by the hand, and yanked him into the house, slamming and bolting the door behind her.

"Mum, what's wrong?" Thomas asked.

Ignoring his question, Elizabeth peeked out from behind the drapes that covered the front window. The riders were about a half mile away and approaching quickly, but they were too far away to identify as friend or foe. Until she knew otherwise, Elizabeth began preparing herself for the latter, not going against her instincts. She had learned from previous experiences to trust her first feelings on a situation.

"Mum! What's going on?" Thomas asked again, pulling at the hem of her white nightdress. His voice held a frustrated, even exasperated tone. Thomas wasn't the type of child that was shaken easily. But this situation required caution from both of them and she needed her son to understand that this was a potentially dangerous situation. She knelt down beside him and gripped both of his shoulders in her hands, looking him in the eyes so he would know that she meant business.

"Thomas. I need you to go into your room and not come out until I call you. Try to stay as quiet as possible. Understood?" she asked.

"But…" he began to protest, wanting to stay and help his mother. Elizabeth gave him a little shake and a cross glance. Reluctantly he agreed, saying, "Yes ma'am," before doing as he was told.

The deafening sound of hooves on the packed dirt road told Elizabeth the riders were getting ever closer. Pulling the drapes aside, she looked out of the window again; that's when she saw them.

Bouncing dangerously atop an enormous black stallion, an expression of excitement mingled with fear on his face, was a man she hadn't seen in years. Half of her had missed his crude humor and dastardly schemes; the other half had wished he had met an untimely end on his latest adventure. Both halves stood staring out the window of the cottage, rooted to the spot by surprise. She hadn't exactly been expecting the infamous Jack Sparrow to show up on her doorstep. Certainly not like this.

And Jack wasn't alone. Behind him two men and an old woman were in fast pursuit. They were dressed in colorful scarves and beads with sashes wrapped around the tops of their heads, their long hair flowing freely behind them.

"Gypsies…" Elizabeth whispered to herself, flinging the door open as the riders pulled their steeds to an abrupt halt. The animals whinnied loudly and stamped the ground, still on an adrenaline high from their chase.

Jack was already off his horse, his back turned toward her, addressing the Gypsies. The two unsavory looking men accompanying the old woman had drawn weapons and were advancing on the man before them.

The seasoned pirate chuckled nervously and held up his hands in surrender, the reins to the large beast behind him in his hand. The sunlight hit the reins, causing them to glitter and sparkle in the morning light.

Elizabeth noticed the breathtaking jewels that were inlaid in the shiny bridle. Were those real emeralds and sapphires? She imagined so. How had the Gypsies come to acquire such valuables? Elizabeth had always been told that the Gypsy people were thieves and vagabonds who spent their lives begging or stealing and reading fortunes. They were certainly not wealthy enough to place precious gems on the bridles of horses. Even the wealthiest Englishmen couldn't afford that expense. But the more important question was how Jack had come to have the horse and the bejeweled bridle in his possession. Elizabeth could only think of one explanation, and judging by the Gypsy men's faces, she was right. Jack had stolen the beast.

"I think you lovely gents have misunderstood the situation at hand," Jack explained, lowering his hands to pat the horse's long snout. The horse snorted dancing backwards and out of his reach, yanking the reins out of his hands. Jack stumbled but caught himself before he fell on his face. The gypsies didn't seem to accept Jack's surrender and continued to advance.

"Really, the horse is all yours mates. I was just testin' him ta see if he was as fast as he looked. And what a ride it was." He turned to the stallion and made a shooing motion with his hands. "Go on horsie. Get away with ye now."

The horse did not appreciate being pushed away like an alley cat and bolted forward toward his abductor. Jack's eyes grew wide as the enraged beast flew at him, but he kept his wits about him long enough to sidestep the creature. But the horse was more cunning than Jack had anticipated. One of its back legs lifted up and landed a kick to his back, effectively sending Jack flying through the air, landing right in front of Elizabeth. The horse, like a well-trained dog, trotted over to the old woman, who secured its reins to her horse's pommel.

"Elizabeth!" Jack exclaimed, jumping up to his unsteady feet. He always seemed to be wobbly on dry land, swaying back and forth as though in a wind tunnel; however, those same muscular legs held steady as a rock on the open ocean, even in a storm.

"It's been ages darling!" he said, giving her an awkward hug. He pulled back from her, giving her a slow once over. "My, don't you look…" he paused, giving her body another assessment, while his hands struggled to grasp the right word. "Cold," he said finally, his eyes lingering on her chest before glancing up to her eyes and back again.

Before Elizabeth could slap the smug look off of his face, the younger of the Gypsy men broke in, yelling: "Hand over the horse thief!" His tone was demanding.

Elizabeth turned her heated gaze on him and asked, "What is to be done with him?"  
"He will suffer the fate of any man foolish enough to steal a horse. His punishment will be death by hanging."

"Hung?" Jack asked, as if scoffing at the idea, but Elizabeth could sense the underlying worry threaded in his voice. "There's no need for a hangin', is there mate? Ye have your precious pony back now, no worse for wear," he pointed out.

"Any thief would return what he stole if he was caught. It doesn't change the fact that you took it," the young man barked back.

Jack stepped out from behind Elizabeth where he had been hiding, using her as a human shield. Holding up his hands in front of him with both index fingers pointed at the creature in question, he tried to prove his innocence as only he would.

"I didn't want the bloody horse, mate," he began, "The jewels was what I wanted. What am I going to do with a horse? I'm a pirate! I just couldn't get that bloody contraption off its head!"

The urge to slap him was hard to suppress, but somehow Elizabeth managed to do it, choosing to give him a death glare instead. He returned to his previous position behind her, mumbling, "I just thought I'd make my motives clear."

"That contraption as you call it is the only remaining object that displays the history of our people. It is the only thing reminding us that we used to be a wealthy people. It is given to our leader when he takes an oath to attempt to restore our people to what we once were." The younger Gypsy man was getting extremely angry. "Your ignorance is unbearable! No one, not even a petty thief, would dare steal such an item from our people."

"He just insulted me!" Jack whispered vehemently in Elizabeth's ear, his pride injured. "He said I'm worse than a petty thief."

"Hush," Elizabeth chided. "He's right," she added with a small smile, killing his pride altogether.

"Enough! Turn over the thief, or be considered an accomplice and suffer the same fate," the middle-aged Gypsy man warned.

She glanced back at her friend. In that moment something unspoken passed between them. Elizabeth turned back to the Gypsies, who were just a few feet from them.

"No. You cannot have him."

The older Gypsy gave her an incredulous look, then sighed and said, "So be it."

With a roar, the two men charged forward, their swords raised and ready to strike against their defenseless opponents. Elizabeth and Jack stood back to back crouched in a fighting stance, waiting to parry the Gypsies' moves and disarm their opponents.

But two loud gunshots stole any chance of that happening.

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_Author's Note: Yay! Jack is back. But what will happen next? Keep reading to find out.  
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_I also just wanted to take a moment to tell everyone reading that my friend helped me to write this story and I am very thankful for all her help. Also, my cousin put in his two cents. Their help made this story five times better than what it would have been._

_If you like what you're reading so far, take a minute to tell me. Or if you have any questions, I'd be more than happy to answer them for you! Thanks for reading._


	4. Chapter 3: The Worst is Yet to Come

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters. I am making no money off of this story.**

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**Chapter Three:**

**_The Worst is Yet to Come_**

The two Gypsies fell to the ground, skidding to a stop just feet from Jack and Elizabeth. Deep red circles formed on their chests almost immediately and they both heaved for their final breaths of air. The old woman hobbled over to the fallen men, cradling their lifeless bodies and crying. Elizabeth stood staring down at her, not sure what she should do next. Jack on the other hand, had drawn his pistol and was scanning the area for the shooter.

Off in the distance, near the tree line, a man approached them. A musket was slung over his shoulders with an air of nonchalance. Jack kept his gun trained on the figure until he could see his face clearly. Once he saw the man's face he quickly stuck the gun haphazardly in his belt and rushed forward.

"Gibbs! Where have you been?" he inquired in an incredulous tone as he continued walking, arms waving up and down as if trying to balance. Elizabeth watched him go; it appeared as if he had been drinking, but then again, it always seemed that way.

"Sorry I'm late cap'n. I was held up," he apologized.

Elizabeth moved over to the pair, leaving the Gypsy woman at her door. She stared at the pair of pirates for a moment. They had both aged well, although Gibbs seemed to be moving more slowly than when she had last seen him and his hair had turned mostly gray. He and Jack had both put on some weight, signifying that they had done pretty well for themselves the past seven years. Gibbs still reminded her of an elderly uncle while Jack reminded her of…well…Jack. But now was not the time to dwell on fond memories and catch up. Two people were dead on her front lawn.

"Jack? What the Devil is going on here?" she asked, frustrated.

"Why, Miss Swan. How good it is to see ye again," Gibbs commented formally.

"It's Mrs. Turner now, Mr. Gibbs. Has been for seven years," she corrected more harshly than she had intended.

"Me apologies, _Mrs. Turner_. Old habits die hard, ye know?"

Jack tried to stem Elizabeth's anger by giving her a sheepish smile. "Not to worry, luv. This was all planned out."

"Planned out?" she repeated, sounding exasperated and more angry than before. "You mean you knew Mr. Gibbs would show up, guns blazing?"

"Course I knew!" he exclaimed proudly, thinking he had avoided disaster. "He was just a little late, is all."

The slap she had been restraining herself from unleashing let loose across Jack's face, full force. She spun to deliver another blow to Gibbs, but he successfully ducked.

"What was that for?" Jack questioned, touching the red mark on his left cheek.

"How dare you bring trouble to my doorstep?" she accused. "How dare you fire weapons in front of my home? My son could have been out here!" She was every bit the angry mother at the moment.

"I wouldn't have shot yer son, just like I didn't shoot that old woman. It don't sit right, shootin' down women and children," Gibbs offered.

At that moment, Thomas appeared in the doorway. He looked down at the grisly scene in front of him, eyes wide in shock and horror. "Mum? What happened? I heard gunshots."

Elizabeth ran over to her son and gathered him in her arms, stroking his hair more in an effort to clam herself than him. "It's fine darling. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Fools!" the old woman cried, standing up from her place next to the bodies of the two fallen men. Her weathered face was streaked with tears, but her eyes were full of anger now. "You cannot imagine the seriousness of what you have done, or the consequences that will follow. Killing a Gypsy is a grave mistake on your part. And you killed two!" she added, pointing at Gibbs, who had come to stand behind Elizabeth and Thomas; Jack stood beside him.

"They were going to kill my friends, Madame. As I see it, that's called self-defense," Gibbs explained, not affected by the woman's words.

The old woman spat out a curse. "Bah! It does not matter. What's done is done. You will all suffer the consequences of your actions. But especially you," she claimed, pointing directly at Elizabeth.

"I won't let you hurt my mother," Thomas stated, taking a step toward the woman and raising his fist in anger. Elizabeth shushed him gently and tightened her hold on him. Her son was brave, but he was too young to follow through with his hastily spoken vows.

"Why me?" she asked. "I did nothing to you or your men!"

"No…you did not," the woman agreed sadly. "But there is great evil surrounding you and your home. Your suffering will come from another, darker, source. An evil that I can hardly fathom is awaiting you. I can sense it. You shall suffer greatly for a crime you didn't commit."

She whistled for her horse and a moment later it ran out from the woods where it had fled to and came over to her obediently. The stallion with the jeweled bridle followed close behind. The Gypsy woman mounted her steed and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Elizabeth called out before the woman could gallop away. "Tell me the source of this evil. Please!" She was desperate for any kind of information or insight that could explain everything that had been happening recently; the odd feelings, the horrible nightmares…

The woman peered down at her, blue-gold orbs boring into her. Then something in her hard eyes softened. "What I tell you is said only because I too lost a son to fate, and you will be no different," she said, her tone serious and slightly haughty. "Perhaps my words will help you defeat your destiny…although I doubt it."

She readjusted herself in her saddle, to better look down at Elizabeth, giving the younger woman an unspoken command to respect and heed her words. "Do not take what I say lightly, but also know that I am no great seer. Revenge will be brought to your doorstep, for a deed long forgotten by most, but not by all."

The continuous nightmare Elizabeth had been having flashed into her mind. Could this be what the woman was talking about? The Gypsy must have seen something in her eyes.

"I think you know what I speak of," she stated. Elizabeth nodded briskly but said nothing. "I see no way to right this wrong, but perhaps you will find one. If you do not, death will come swiftly upon the air."

As if waiting for this dramatic cue, a blast of cold wind swirled around the gathered people. Elizabeth rubbed her arms to shake off the chill, but it remained even after the wind died down. The old woman looked around her, then up to the sky in alarm. She picked up the bridle and turned to Elizabeth.

"That is all I can tell you. I suggest you not stay here long. If you do, your destiny will see itself through for sure. I myself have lingered too long already. Here," she said, removing four gold coins from a satchel on her saddle and dropping them at Elizabeth's feet. "See that my son and grandson are buried properly, and maybe your companion's punishment will be lessened," she stated, indicating Gibbs.

Abruptly she turned on her horse and fled, without saying another word. Elizabeth bent down to pick up the coins; Jack's face greeted her between her legs. He had already popped one of the coins into his mouth and was biting down on it.

"Spit that out at once!" she demanded, moving to stand in front of him.

He obeyed, saying, "Just seein' if they was real. It was," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Elizabeth let out a low growl as she took Thomas by the hand, leading him into the house. After a moment of indecision, Jack and Gibbs followed, shutting the door behind them.

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The sun was just reaching its peak, casting shadows around the house and among the trees. At the edge of the tree line, a dark figure moved deeper into the forest to avoid the sunlight, content to hide for now. It had finally found what it had been searching for.

It had taken him twenty-three years to reach this point. Twenty-three years of carrying out his vow of vengeance. Now that he was close to seeing his parent's brutal murders avenged, he had to remind himself to be patient. It would be easy to just barge into the little cottage and slaughter every one of them, but that plan lacked finesse, or suffering. No, killing them quickly wouldn't bring him the closure that he longed for. Governor Swan's descendents would pay the final price for his crimes.

The two men who had followed the woman and her son into the house would also die if they didn't leave soon. But he had no problem adding a few more nameless faces to his growing body count. They certainly wouldn't be the first innocents he had killed. Besides, no one was ever completely innocent, and from the appearances of the two men, they probably should have been taken care of long ago.

He had everything planned out. Now all he had to do was wait and decide who should be first: the woman, or her son? With one last look at the cottage, he disappeared into the darkness.

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_Author's Note: So there's a little peek at the danger that is to come. There will be more action in upcoming chapters. Hope you liked it. Thanks for reading!_


	5. Chapter 4: The Troops Assemble

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Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters. I am making no money off of this story.

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**Chapter Four:**

**_The Troops Assemble_**

The teakettle hissed and shouted in the fireplace, causing Elizabeth to jump in her seat. God how she hated being this frightened, like a little girl. But she couldn't help it. Some old woman had basically just told her that she and her son were going to die, and sooner rather than later at that. She couldn't afford to act like a child afraid of the monsters under her bed at the moment. She needed to draw her strength from the part of herself that she had unlocked years ago, a part of herself that she hadn't known existed: her warrior side. After all, a pirate king didn't cower in the face of danger. Most of all, she had to pull herself together to protect her son.

"Here ye are missy," Gibbs said, handing her a steaming cup of tea in a delicate china cup. "I added me special ingredient. It'll calm ye right down," he added, sounding proud of his special brew.

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied, taking a small sip of the scalding liquid. Sure enough, it was like no tea she had ever tasted before. It was heavily laced with rum. The taste was so overwhelming that she almost choked. Her eyes watered at the sides a bit but she closed them and took another drink from her cup. She couldn't deny that the concoction was tasty and perhaps just what she needed.

Gibbs gave everyone else a cup—although Elizabeth snatched Thomas' away before he could consume it—and took a seat on a cushioned stool across from the mother and son.

"Don't take that witch's words ta heart," he said. "She's just a crazy ol' loon. If I believed in every curse or hex someone put on me, I'd be a dead man ten times over! This old git can't predict the future. Trust me, she was just trying ta put ideas in your head. A pile of dung, all of it." By the end of his pep talk, Gibbs was so worked up that he gulped the rest of his "tea" down and poured himself another cup.

Elizabeth shook her head sadly. At first she wished to agree with Gibbs, that the Gypsy woman's speech was rubbish, but upon reflection, she knew better. "No, that woman was right. Something evil is coming. I knew it even before she said anything. I just didn't want to accept it. Now, I have no choice. But I'm not just going to sit here and be easy prey."

"What are ye talking 'bout?" Jack inquired, confusion playing across his handsome face.

Elizabeth sighed and looked down at her "tea" before draining it. A rush of warmth swept over her body. "I think it's time I told you about my dreams."

"Sounds promising," Jack said, perking up.

She ignored his comment and began to recount every bit of information she could remember from her nightmares, but attempted to leave out the most gruesome descriptions for Thomas' sake. The expressions playing across his face told her that he was frightened and concerned.

"Well…" Jack said half an hour later when she had finished. "Those dreams aren't anything like I imagined they would be." He sounded disappointed.

"Sorry Jack, but my nightmares don't consist of half naked women sword fighting or oceans of rum," Elizabeth responded, drawing her son into her arms and hugging him tightly.

"Aw, the good days," Gibbs said, lost in memory.

"Focus, please, Mr. Gibbs," Elizabeth commented, trying to keep the men on track. "What do you think the nightmares mean Jack?"

The pirate had gotten up during the conversation and was standing by the front window, gazing out across the grassy hill and sipping at Gibbs' brew. He seemed to be contemplating something.

"No clue," Jack said absentmindedly, continuing to peer out of the window. "But if they have anything to do with that man standing in the trees, then we may be in for some trouble."

The three people sitting glanced at each other quickly, and then jumped up and crowded around the window, eager to see the man Jack spoke of.

"Mum, I don't see anyone," Thomas said confused.

"Where is he?" she demanded of Jack, squinting her eyes as she scanned the area for the intruder.

"I swear he was just there," Jack replied, sounding dumbfounded. "He was standing right there, all tall dark and handsome like, staring in this direction. He was wearin' a black cape too. It's as if he just…just…" he made a popping gesture with his hands, "Poof! Vanished!"

Although it was completely illogical for anyone to vanish into thin air, there was something in Jack's voice that told Elizabeth he was being serious. She could see it in his eyes too. He was completely flabbergasted. She believed him. If Jack claimed he saw someone in the trees, then there was someone there.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. "I don't know who or what is out there, but I know one thing. I refuse to sit here, patiently waiting to find out...or worse…" She let her sentence trail off, afraid she'd upset Thomas, who was already staring up at her in alarm.

"We're getting out of here," she stated with a tone of finality. "Now."

* * *

"Welcome to me humble abode," sang Jack, bowing them inside in a dramatic fashion that made Thomas giggle. The seven-year-old didn't know how to view Jack just yet.

"You live here?" Gibbs questioned, non-believing. He didn't receive an answer from the other man.

Elizabeth picked up a china-faced doll from a lounge seat and gave Jack a quizzical look. Her arched eyebrows asked her question for her. The pirate snatched the fragile doll out of her hands and snuggled it up to his face.

"Don't touch…Janessa. She's the only woman who won't slap or judge me for being a fool," he explained.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and dropped the topic. "Look, we need to focus on what's happening. I keep having these nightmares, you've been hexed by a Gypsy," she said to Gibbs, "and now there's a possible madman stalking us. For the love of God! What's going on?"

A sudden dizziness overtook her and she swayed where she stood. Raising a calloused hand to her forehead and squeezing her temples, she tried to dispel her dizziness. However, instead of making her feel better, it made her feel worse. The room around her became hazy and unfocused; she could feel her knees go weak.

"Mrs. Turner?" Gibbs asked in a worried voice, but they were the only words she heard. Elizabeth felt herself start to fall. In another heartbeat her world became black and everything around her ceased to exist.

* * *

Several raindrops landed on Elizabeth's face, causing her eyes to flutter open then shut again. _I really must fix that leak in the roof,_ she thought to herself. Her head was throbbing, but she couldn't imagine why. _Must have been that "tea"_ she reasoned. She turned over onto her side and heard a crunching beneath her. _Odd, _she thought.

A rumble of thunder that was much louder than it should have been made her realize that she wasn't in her home or in any building for that matter. She was outside, in what appeared to be a cornfield.

"Fan out men. We must not let the creature escape!" a man shouted somewhere off in the distance.

Elizabeth sat up and tucked her legs underneath her. If this was another nightmare—which she supposed it was—it wasn't like any of the other ones she had had. The rain was cool against her face and her clothes were sopping wet, chilling her to the bone. Suddenly, the stalks to her right began to move and a moment later a young man emerged from the corn.

He looked to be about sixteen-years-old and was easily taller than her, even though he was hunched over to avoid being seen. Dark, wet hair just touched his broad shoulders. His eyes looked black in the darkness and the expression there worried Elizabeth. They were filled with a mixture of fear and anger. A dangerous combination, Elizabeth knew. People were unpredictable when they were afraid; to add anger to that formula was asking for something bad to happen.

The young man stopped only long enough to catch a breath before he sprinted off past Elizabeth, running through her as if she didn't exist.

"This must be a nightmare," she confirmed, hastily getting to her feet. For a moment she struggled with indecision. She was obviously supposed to follow the boy, but should she? If this was the boy her father had been searching to kill, did she really want to know whether her father succeeded or not? Elizabeth wasn't sure she could handle seeing the boy be murdered as well.

The voices of the men pursuing the young man were getting closer and made up her mind for her. She ran after the boy, pushing through the cornfield as she ran in the direction he had gone.

In no time at all, she was in front of the tiny farmhouse from her nightmares. She didn't want to go inside, afraid of what she would find, but she also knew that she would keep having this dream until she discovered the meaning behind it. Hoping to get some answers, Elizabeth entered the house through a back door.

She walked inside, passing through a homey kitchen, just big enough to put a table and chairs in the center of the room. Elizabeth found herself wishing she could have had a meal with this family rather than having to suffer through a three-course dinner at the large and impersonal formal dining table her father used to insist they eat at.

The frightened young man from the cornfields had knelt down beside the charred remains of his parents. Only patches of skin could be seen; most of their flesh was black, making it impossible to see any distinctive features that may have been there previously. Elizabeth wondered how the fire hadn't spread throughout the farmhouse. The farmer's bodies were the only things that had been burnt.

The boy was sobbing uncontrollably, his entire body shaking with the effort to stay quiet. He reached out an unsteady hand to touch his mother's forearm, but it crumpled to ash beneath his touch. His cries became louder. Elizabeth, too, felt like crying. A terrible sorrow filled her heart, and she braced herself against the doorframe to keep herself from falling over.

_I can't imagine what he's feeling right now,_ she thought sadly to herself. _To lose both parents so suddenly and violently…especially at his age._

She recalled her mother's untimely death in her head. She had only been four-years-old when it had happened, and she could hardly remember anything from that night, except feeling as if her world had just been ripped out from underneath her. But the boy in front of her would always remember this night, and she knew that the visions of his parent's disintegrated bodies would haunt him for the rest of his life. Tears filled her eyes as the young man tried to stop crying long enough to gulp for air.

Suddenly, the boy let out a wail that shattered the silence in the room, alerting the men outside to his presence. The mob was on its way back; they would be there any moment. So why wasn't the boy moving? Why was he just kneeling there? Surely he must know that the men would kill him if and when they found him, just like his parents?

Elizabeth began to shout a warning, but her voice caught in her throat as she realized that the young man wouldn't be able to hear her. She wished there was something she could do to help the boy, but she remembered that this was a nightmare and she would have to let it play out as it was supposed to. This was what she was supposed to see.

He shouted again, the sounds coming from his mouth filled with extreme pain and intense rage.

"There he is! Kill him!" Elizabeth heard her father shout.

The boy stood and faced his enemies, all traces of fear and sorrow gone. The only thing reflected in his dark eyes was boiling anger.

"You will pay," he said, his voice no louder than a whisper, but as clear as if he had shouted his declaration. "Every last one of you will suffer at my hands for what you have done. I will not rest until you have all lost something you hold dear to your hearts! Even your children shall feel my wrath," he turned his hot gaze on her father. "Especially yours Swan. Your suffering and the suffering of your family will not end as long as I am alive!" It was not just a statement, but a promise.

"Which will not be much longer," her father spat out, giving the order for his men to charge.

The young man let loose another bellow, but it was all Elizabeth heard. She woke up screaming and writhing on the floor of Jack's house. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage and she was shaking violently.

"What the Devil was that about?" yelled Jack as Gibbs and Thomas helped Elizabeth stand up and move over to a chair. Thomas handed her a glass of water, which she gratefully accepted.

Jack continued his rant. "One minute yer here with us, making fun of me doll collection, and the next yer," he began to shake his entire body in an effort to reenact her convulsions. "Ye had drool coming out of yer mouth and ye were thrashin' about a lot. Ye were screamin' too."

"Ye gave us quite a scare," Gibbs translated.

"Were you dreaming again?" Thomas asked.

She nodded as she played with his long, dirty brown locks. "We really need to give you a haircut," she stated motherly.

"Mum, I don't think we need to worry about haircuts at a time like this," he responded, slightly annoyed. He pushed her hand away. She smiled. He was so much like his father.

"Maybe she's finally cracked up," whispered Gibbs loudly to his companion. "Ye know, with being on her own and all. Maybe she's gone loony," he suggested.

"I am not crazy Mr. Gibbs," Elizabeth stated softly. She could understand where his idea was coming from. It must appear to everyone else that she was crazy.

"Sorry, Mrs. Turner," Gibbs mumbled, shrinking back.

"She might not be crazy, but she certainly needs to do something about those nightmares," Jack said, sounding thoughtful.

"Well if you have any suggestions, I'd be more than glad to hear them. I would very much like to do away with this nightmare business," Elizabeth said half-heartedly. She didn't expect Jack to actually come up with a plan.

"I know!" Jack nearly shouted the announcement. "She needs Harriet!"

"Who is Harriet?" Thomas questioned.

"A friend," Jack replied.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Elizabeth asked.

As Jack began to protest her rhetorical question, the doorknob to the front door turned. Everyone froze. The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged man and woman and their young daughter. Confusion was written all over their faces. The little girl was the first to speak.

"Daddy? Who are these people? And why are they in our house?"

Elizabeth let out a sigh as Jack waltzed up to the family.

"Yer house? What do ye mean? This here is my house, young miss," he stated.

"No it's not," her father countered. "We've lived here for ten years!"

"Oh, my mistake then. Must have forgotten me address again. That would explain the dolls," Jack said, holding up the doll he had called Janessa by her arm.

"Molly!" the little girl cried, snatching the doll out of his hand. Jack jumped back to avoid contact with the child.

"Well, we'll just be on our way. Ye have a lovely day."

Without another word he bolted out the door, leaving the rest of them no choice but to follow suit. They ran until the father's shouts died away and then stopped, exhausted and out of breath.

"Another wonderful plan from the ingenious Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth said sarcastically. "What are we going to do? We're out in the open with a stalker following us, and now we have nowhere safe to sleep!"

"But look on the bright side, luv," he suggested, "Now we have no reason not ta go see Harriet. Shall we?" he asked to no one in particular as he turned in the direction they needed to go.

The other three only followed because none of them had any better ideas at that moment.

* * *

_Author's Note: Well, there's chapter four. I hope you all liked it. You've probably noticed that I am doing a lot with dream sequences. I hope this isn't bothering you. Tell me what you think, and thanks again for reading!_


	6. Chapter 5: The Fortuneteller

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.**

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****Chapter Five:**

_**The Fortuneteller**_

The tired and weary travelers made their way down the winding road, too exhausted to flinch or react to the sounds around them that went "bump" in the darkness.

"It's just a bit further," Jack promised for the third time.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Elizabeth grumbled. She had had enough for one day. She just wanted to sleep, although she doubted she would get much shut-eye even if they did find a safe place to lie down.

"Course I know where I'm going," Jack responded, stopping at an intersection and thinking hard before turning left.

Beside her, Thomas let out a yawn and rubbed his dropping eyes. Elizabeth's heart went out to him. He was a trooper. Not one word of complaint had come out of his mouth, even though she knew he must be tired and hungry just like her.

"I know you're tired, honey," his mother observed. "Try and stay awake a little longer. We're almost there."

"Sure we are," was all the child said.

"Ah! There it is!" Jack declared, pointing ahead of them.

A small hut seemed to appear out of the darkness. There was a single light coming from inside the house, most likely from a kitchen hearth. The rest of the structure blended in so well with the surrounding trees that if the light were extinguished, it would have practically disappeared. The whole place looked wild and uninhabited. Elizabeth deduced that not many people called on this Harriet woman for visits.

"I can't believe I didn't ask you this before Jack, but who is Harriet? What does she do exactly?" she asked with a yawn.

"She's a fortuneteller," came his reply.

Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. The rest of the company came to a halt behind her. Jack continued walking forward and mumbling to himself until he realized no one was following him. He turned around to find out why.

"What?" he asked clearly confused.

Her words came out on a sad, disbelieving sigh. "A fortuneteller, Jack? You've brought me to a fortuneteller?"

He nodded once, the motion a brisk gesture. His mouth hung slightly ajar.

"Have you forgotten that the last fortuneteller you brought us to was, in fact, a goddess intent on destroying all those who had imprisoned her, and who is currently forcing my husband to sail the seas for ten years at a time, with only a day of rest, while he leads the souls of the dead to the next world?" She was out of breath when she finished.

"No, I haven't forgotten," Jack said, still appearing confused. "But Harriet's not like Calypso, I swear. She's just a normal woman who delves in ta the dark arts every once in a while. She's not set on taking over the world. Won't ye give her a chance?"

"Is she the real thing?" she asked.

"The best," replied Jack. He waited for her nod of approval before dancing his way to the front door. Lifting his hand, he knocked three times.

"Go away," a voice spat out into the night.

Jack turned to the group of people behind him and gave a forced smile. "Always been a little difficult," he explained before turning back to the door. "Come now, Harriet darling. Is that any way to treat old friends?"

There was a moment's pause before the woman spoke again. "I know that voice," she said finally. Rustling sounds could be heard coming from the other side of the door. Next, they heard a series of clicks and scrapes as the woman unlocked the door. The wooden barrier opened slowly.

Elizabeth wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but Harriet was something like she pictured a fortuneteller to be. She was dressed in a long green robe that swept the floor. It had seen better days, but it showed signs of care and cleaning. Harriet's skin was dark brown, and her features were old and wizened. She was a plump woman and strands of assorted beads and amulets draped around her neck, sitting on her ample chest. Her long black hair was tinted with gray and was held back from her face with a red sash. Yes, Madame Harriet certainly looked like a fortuneteller, although that didn't mean she was one.

"Jack," she said smiling, "It's been a long time."

"It has," he agreed.

"But…before I ask you what you are doing here, allow me to do something I should have done years ago," she continued, licking her lips. Jack leaned forward, thinking that he was about to receive a kiss; all he got was a slap across the face. Madame Harriet's smile was gone, but she also didn't appear to be angry.

"I assume you deserved that?" Elizabeth asked the grumbling Jack.

"Probably," he answered with a toothy grin.

"Look, Madame Harriet," Gibbs broke in. "We're in need of some answers, and we've come ta you in hopes that ye can give us some. But if we ain't welcome, we'll be on our…"

"Hush, you fool," Harriet interrupted. All the color had drained from her face and she looked as if she were going to be sick. "I'm getting something."

A hush fell over the foursome as they held a collective breath. Madame Harriet held her hands out at her sides, palms up. Her head was titled back, as if staring at the stars. She didn't seem to be breathing and her eyes darted back and forth so fast that she looked like she had become possessed.

"One of you is being hunted. I see a dark figure," she began in a soft but firm voice.

"Tell us something we don't know," muttered Jack. Elizabeth delivered a sharp blow to his ribcage to shut him up. She was on her last nerve.

"One of you shall go to battle shortly. The outcome of this battle cannot be seen," Madame Harriet continued as if uninterrupted.

"Load of help, that is," Gibbs stated. Elizabeth stepped on his foot with the heel of her boot. He grunted in pain and didn't say anything else.

"One of you will die within three days," Harriet finished resuming her normal stance.

No one commented on her last prediction. No one even moved. The deadly prediction hung heavily in the foreboding silence that had surrounded the travelers and the seer. Thomas was the first one to speak.

"Why can't you tell us who will suffer which fate, ma'am?" the child asked innocently.

"For one thing I truly do not know which of you shall befall each fate. And for another, even if I did know I wouldn't tell you. If it is your fate, it will happen, one way or another. There is no avoiding it. Whoever is meant to die, will die, whether it is today or tomorrow. The point is that they will die eventually. My intervention would only delay them from dying for a time, not forever."

"Oh," Thomas said, embarrassed that he had asked at all.

Madame Harriet turned her gaze from Thomas to the adults of the group. "Now, about my payment," she said, holding her hand out expectantly.

"Payment?" Gibbs yelled. "What payment?"

"I provided you with a service, sir. I expect to be paid just like a barber or a blacksmith would."

"But we're old friends…" Jack started.

"Yes, well, our _friendship_ doesn't put food on my table," Harriet retorted.

"But you haven't told us anything!" Gibbs pointed out in protest. "We came here for answers, and we didn't get any. If anything, you gave us more questions!"

"You came here for my help, which is what I gave you. Now, I expect payment!" Madame Harriet said, getting flustered.

"Do you care what kind of payment?" Elizabeth asked, past the point of getting angry over something so trivial. If she had to pay the woman, she would. "We'll give you Jack as an indentured servant. I think five days of hard labor should cover the cost," she joked.

Jack's mouth dropped open, staring at Elizabeth in disbelief. Before he could say anything; however, Madame Harriet let out a soft chuckle, a smile spreading slowly across her face.

"No, my dear. That won't do. I'm afraid I only except one type of payment."

"Coin?" the younger woman ventured to guess, already digging around in her pack.

"No, not coins," Harriet answered.

"No? Then what?" Elizabeth asked warily, suddenly afraid of her answer.

"Souls, my dear. I want one of your souls!" the old seer declared.

_Author's Note: So what do you think of those prophecies? I know they are pretty general, but I didn't want to give too much away in the early part of the story. I have to save the good stuff for later. :) I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading! I'll post at least one more chapter by the end of the day so I don't leave you wondering what will happen next for a long time._

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	7. Chapter 6: The Enemy Presents Itself

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or any of the characters you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.**

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****Chapter Six:**

**_The Enemy Presents Itself_**

Elizabeth's temper flared instantly. Her patience had finally worn out. She threw up her hands and let loose a slur of descriptive words that left Thomas' mouth gaping open in shock; and he wasn't the only one. Everyone else was staring at her as if she had gone mad. Eventually her words became actual sentences.

"I have just about had it!" she screamed. "Nightmares, stalkers, death, hexes, vows of vengeance! And now you want a soul? You have got to be kidding me! I won't stand for it any more!"

By this point in her tirade, Gibbs' had lost his ability to speak, Thomas seemed to be on the verge of tears, and Jack was bending backwards as if she were holding a sword to his throat. Yet Madame Harriet continued to stare at her with an unreadable expression.

"Come on Thomas, we're leaving," she stated, thrusting out a hand to her son. He took it without any hesitation, but she attributed that to the fact that he didn't want to become an outlet for her wrath. He was obviously scared of her outburst; he had never seen her yell like this before.

"These two can decide which of them will be losing their soul. It certainly won't be you or me." She took his hand and turned toward the road. They had gone about halfway—Elizabeth stomping angrily and Thomas tripping over his own two feet trying to keep pace with her—when a woman's shouting sounded behind them.

"Wait!" the fortuneteller called again. She was walking toward the mother and her child cautiously, not wanting to incite her anger again. "Don't go. If you do, you and your son will be dead by morning." The woman's eyes pleaded with hers.

"How can you possibly know that?" Elizabeth questioned. "Besides, if I am supposed to die tonight, it doesn't matter…right. I'll just die anyway." She turned on her heel and began to walk again. Harriet looped around her and stood in her path, her hands held up in a stopping gesture.

"There is fate, and then there is stupidity. Both can kill, but the latter is avoidable and foolish to accept. You are not meant to die this night," she added, her tone final.

"I understand," Elizabeth said sighing. "But if your price is a soul, then I can not and will not stay here."

The woman shook her head. "I was only joking about the soul as payment. I only require a soul on special occasions," she replied, winking at Thomas. "No, a monetary payment will do just fine. I am sorry that I upset you with my dark humor. I did not realize that you were so close to a meltdown. Forgive me, my child. It has been a long time since I have had visitors. Please, come into my home and spend the night. You can leave safely in the morning."

"And what will your hospitality cost us?" Elizabeth asked, calming down slightly.

"Nothing. My home is open to you for free."

The tired young woman let out another sigh. "Thank you," she managed to say.

They turned back to Madame Harriet's house. Apparently Jack and Mr. Gibbs had already let themselves in. The trio entered the house and Elizabeth finally let her guard down. She felt safe inside the walls of Harriet's home.

After eating a warm humble meal and tucking Thomas into bed, she too, fell asleep…although she did not stay that way long.

The nightmare was the same one she had had at Jack's "house". She awoke in the same fashion, screaming and shaking like a leaf. Sweat covered her brow and she gulped for breath. The only difference this time was that Madame Harriet was the one with her when she woke up.

Apparently the old prophet had been there for some time. She had pulled a rocking chair up beside her bed and was smoking an unusual pipe. It was carved from ivory and had images of the sun and the moon engraved on the base of the pipe. The figures were entwined with one another. Harriet did not look up at Elizabeth when she awoke. It appeared as though the old woman was deep in thought.

"I told the others not to trouble you," she announced in a dismissive fashion, still staring into space.

Elizabeth didn't reply and another long silence passed between them.

"Great trials are ahead of you," Harriet told her quietly, sticking the end of the pipe in her mouth. Elizabeth noticed that the smoke did not smell the like the stuff her father used to indulge in-- the type that made her sick to her stomach. This pipe smoke had a relaxing, herbal smell. It would have put her back to sleep if Harriet hadn't spoken again.

"Secrets will surface in the coming days," she continued. "And I am not sure if you will be able to handle them." For the first time the mysterious woman looked up at her, her lovely green eyes boring into her, as if trying to find proof of her statement in Elizabeth's eyes.

The younger woman drew the covers up around herself in an attempt to ward off the seer's unrelenting gaze. "It can't be any worse than finding out my father was a heartless killer," she replied, disgusted by what she had discovered through her nightmares.

Madame Harriet eyed her doubtfully and turned her attention back to her pipe, her gaze on the far wall. "Your father kept a great many secrets, most of which he took to the grave. Most…but not all."

"What do you mean? Did you know my father? Do you know what his secrets were?"

But she never received and answer to her questions from the fortuneteller that Elizabeth was beginning to believe was for real. A sudden banging on the front door broke the relative silence of the night and awoke the others in the house. Elizabeth jumped in her bed, startled by the sound, but Madame Harriet remained unfazed.

She took her time extinguishing her pipe before rising and calmly walking to the front door. Her actions suggested she had expected someone to knock on her door in the middle of the night; odd for someone who claimed she didn't get many visitors.

Elizabeth's curiosity battled with and triumphed over her logical side and she donned a robe over her shift before following after her host.

"What's all the ruckus?" Jack asked, yawning loudly and scratching his head.

"Shh!" Elizabeth hissed, pointing to the door. Madame Harriet was slowly unlatching the locks. Jack looked confused for a moment and then gave up, turning back to his corner cot and plopping down on it face first. Gibbs and Thomas remained on their pallets but did not go back to sleep. Elizabeth stayed back from the doorway, far enough to see clearly but still remain out of reach. Whoever it was couldn't be good news. Not during the early hours of the morning.

"Yes?" Harriet asked in greeting.

A dirty, ragged man—obviously homeless—stood on the other side of the door. His clothes were in shambles and had probably been worn by the man every day for several years. His grisly gray hair was stingy and caked with dirt and grease, just like his clothes. He was hunched over, probably from years of hard labor. There was an air of desperation about him that made Elizabeth's motherly side want to take him under her wing and give him food and care. Her logical side; however, told her to wait for Madame Harriet to invite him in before she got started.

"May I come in and rest me weary bones for a bit, ma'am? If ye give me a bowl of broth and a soft pallet, I'd pay you back by chopping some firewood in the morning. Please, ma'am."

Elizabeth was already turning to get the poor, undernourished man his broth when Madame Harriet's cold, unfeeling laugh broke through the silence. Elizabeth didn't see what was so funny. The man standing outside the door looked liable to drop over any minute and die of starvation.

"You must think me a fool. Well, you are gravely mistaken," Harriet stated coldly to the stranger, her tone mirthless. "You will not set foot inside my house!" There was an eerie echo after she had declared this, the sound reverberating off the surrounding walls. Elizabeth thought she was being terribly rude.

"Come now ma'am. I mean ye no harm," pleaded the stranger. There was something in his voice that didn't match up with his proclamation, making Elizabeth's gut instincts send up a red flag.

"You may not intend to harm _me_…but I know what you are. Be gone from my house demon! You can not have her!"

Elizabeth froze at the dark lady's pronouncement. She was the only other woman in the house; Harriet and the man were talking about her!

The man's eyes flicked to look at Elizabeth. She gasped at the burning anger she saw in the old man's eyes. He quickly looked back at Madame Harriet. Elizabeth began to worry for the old woman's safety. This pathetic looking man didn't seem like he could put up much of a fight, but looks could be deceiving.

"You cannot protect them forever! I will have my day!" the stranger exclaimed, his voice vehement and heavy with contempt for the woman blocking his passage into the house.

"Not today you won't."

The man took a menacing step forward, straightening up to his full height; he was actually quite tall. Madame Harriet had anticipated this and grabbed a handful of what looked like red dirt from a jar sitting on a table just inside of the front door, sprinkling it along the threshold. Elizabeth was still confused, but deduced that the red dirt had some type of repelling power to it since the stranger took a hasty step backward.

"You will not enter this house!" Harriet repeated confidently. "Leave now or wait for the sun to rise. The choice is yours."

The stranger let out a low hissing sound before taking off into the fading darkness, defeated for the moment.

"Who was that man?" Elizabeth demanded of the unflinching woman when she had finished relocking the door. The others had emerged from the other room where they had been listening to the whole confrontation. Elizabeth was glad that the stranger hadn't seen her son or the pirates.

Madame Harriet let out a sigh as she turned to face the questioning expressions behind her.

"That was no man," she explained. "That was your adversary making himself known. Unfortunately for you, he is a member of the undead."

"Undead?" asked Gibbs. "You mean like a zombie? I thought they was only legends."

"Come now, Gibbs," Jack responded, slapping his friend on the back in an attempt to wake up his common sense. "Are ye telling me yer afraid of one little undead thing? After all ye've seen? Certainly zombies aren't all that startling?"

"The creature hunting your lot is not a zombie," Harriet corrected. "A zombie is a slowly rotting corpse that has the ability to move. The only thing it focuses on is finding food. No, the creature following you is cunning and on a mission. Clearly not a zombie."

"Then what is following us?" Thomas asked, stepping forward.

"There are a few possibilities, but my bet is on a vampire. A dark and dangerous demon indeed."

"How can it be killed?" Elizabeth inquired, wanting to take care of the creature as soon as possible.

Harriet thought for moment. "Well, if it _is_ a vampire, it can be killed a number of ways: fire, stakes through the heart, decapitation. It can also be warded off, just like it was tonight, with holy symbols or holy water. They also have a distaste for garlic. But none of these are foolproof or sure to work. And you could run into other problems when trying to kill it as well."

"For example…" Gibbs prodded when she didn't say anything.

"These creatures hold unknown power. They can shape shift, making them masters of disguise. They can control the minds of the weak-willed. They are a strong as ten men, and are faster than the average human. It will be extremely difficult to kill him."

"Well, we're going to have to try," Thomas said bravely. "Will you help us, Madame Harriet?"

The fortuneteller looked down at the courageous boy kindly, a look of sadness in her eyes. "I am afraid that I have helped you as much as I am able. And I'm also sorry to tell you that I am going to have to ask you and your friends to leave. You won't be safe here much longer."

"But…" Elizabeth began.

"He will keep coming back. Eventually he will get past me and my barriers. It is foolish to sit and wait for death. You know this," she told the younger woman. "You must leave now and get as far away from here as possible."

With a few more pieces of advice from Madame Harriet, the foursome departed into the morning sun. They finally had some answers, but would answers be enough to defend themselves against their enemy?

Only time would tell.

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_Author's Note: So now you know for sure what the group is up against. In this chapter I basically explained all the powers that the vampire has. I know that there are a lot of different powers that a vampire could have and my interpretation may not agree with your ideas, but these are the traits I chose. I hope you enjoyed it. Keep reading and leave me a review so I know what you think. Good or bad. Thanks!_


	8. Chapter 7: The Traveler's Hideaway

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money from this story.**

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**Chapter Seven:**

**_The Travelers' Hideaway_**

Madame Harriet had not let the travelers leave empty-handed. Spare clothes for Elizabeth and her son had been pulled out from a trunk so old it looked like it would crumple beneath the slightest touch. How the seer had come into possession of the trunk wasn't investigated. Everyone held their tongues when Harriet presented them with an array of weapons as well. There was obviously more to Madame Harriet than met the eye.

As far as food went, the fare was simple: bread, cheese, and a few apples. It was enough to get them through the day, maybe a little longer, but they planned on buying more food when they reached town.

Yet, perhaps the most important item Madame Harriet had outfitted them with was a jar of red salt, which Elizabeth had mistaken for dirt. The fortuneteller had told her that by sprinkling it along a threshold of a doorway, any enemy or person intending to harm them was not permitted to cross. The only drawback was that its supply was not limitless; they would need to ration it.

For a long time they walked in silence, each deep in thought about their present situation. They passed many little cottages and numerous villagers. The frequency of these sightings grew greater as they approached the city. Amongst so many people, Elizabeth felt a little more at ease. Surely the vampire stalking them wouldn't attack them in such a public area.

"Tommy-boy," Gibbs said. "What would you think about living at an orphanage fer awhile?"

"Huh?" Thomas questioned, speechless.

"Mr. Gibbs!" Elizabeth exclaimed at the same time. "Just what are you proposing?"

He looked apologetic, but continued to push his idea. "Mrs. Turner, ye know this is no adventure fer the boy. He'd be safer if we left him somewheres. We could go on by ourselves and deal with the problem, then come back fer the lad."

"Mum?" Thomas prompted, uncertainty in his eyes.

Elizabeth thought the idea was absurd. "Absolutely not!"

"Please, listen ta reason. It'd be safer fer us all," Gibbs pleaded.

"No," she stated.

"He has a point," Jack put in, scratching his chin thoughtfully "We can all protect ourselves rather well. The boy can't. He's a liability and if we're worried about protectin' him, we're all put in more danger."

"Mum?" Thomas said again, nervousness making his voice squeaky.

She looked down at her son with reassuring eyes, then at the two pirates who would take him from her side. "I will not leave my son behind and unprotected. There is nowhere that is safe for him…except with me," she declared. "I won't listen to any more protests. He's staying with us."

"Yer being awfully stubborn," Gibbs mumbled.

"All women are like that Gibbs. Best ta get used ta it," Jack told his friend.

They kept walking until they had reached the other side of the town. The sun was already sinking, giving them a little over two hours before sunset. Keeping a brisk pace, they reached the Swan manor house a short while later.

"You used to live here?" Thomas inquired, staring at the structure in front of them. He didn't sound impressed with her old home.

She didn't blame him. The large house had fallen under disrepair, which could be easily explained by the fact that no one—except the occasional homeless man seeking shelter—had lived there for nine years. After her father had passed away, Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to go back to the house.

But here she was, seeking refuge in the one place she knew she could go to.

The four travelers walked up the front path toward the once formidable manor house. Trees and bushes along with weeds and flowers grew up around (and sometimes across) the pathway, untamed and in need of pruning and plucking.

Ahead of them the front door was ajar, letting in bugs and other creatures. But then again, with the holes created by the Black Pearl's cannonballs dotting the outside walls, the fact that the front door was open was a moot point.

The inside of the house resembled the chaotic state of the exterior. After the Black Pearl's attack, her father had ordered repairs to be done to the house, but not much had been accomplished. The various remodeling projects had stopped in many stages, some nearly complete, others barely begun.

Everything was covered in dust and leaves blew across the floor with the sporadic breeze. High piles of dead and rotting leaves had collected in the corners. Elizabeth didn't want to think about the types of animals, insects, and reptiles that now called those piles home.

"Well, I see ye've let the help go," Jack commented, swatting furiously at a spider web in front of him.

"Maybe the upstairs isn't as bad," Elizabeth said in reply, moving toward the staircase. She drew her sword and held it out in front of her as she climbed the marble stairs.

"Why are you holding your sword like that?" Thomas asked, climbing the stairs behind his mother.

"There could be something, or someone, up here," she answered.

"Aren't ye overreacting just a tad?" questioned Jack. "I mean, ye've dealt with the undead before. You fought both Barbossa's men and Davy Jones' crew, and yer still here. What's the big deal about this one? It's just one little vampire," he reasoned.

Elizabeth began checking the rooms on the second floor, peering into each doorway.

"Maybe motherhood has made her soft," Gibbs suggested.

"Hardly," Thomas piped up. "My mother is the strongest, bravest, smartest person I know. She'd do anything to protect someone she cares for. She can certainly defeat this creature following us…right Mum?"

Elizabeth only nodded to keep her son from worrying. She wasn't about to tell him that she was afraid and unsure about what to do. No, that would only create more problems.

"I think this room will be best for us to sleep in," she stated, walking into a large lounge room. It was sparsely furnished, some of the furniture broken or missing. A fireplace, located on one of the walls, would keep them warm and enable them to cook.

"Yes, this will do nicely. Now we need to do a few things before sunset," she added.

Within five minutes she had delegated tasks to everyone and they had split up. Gibbs had been sent to find mattresses or cots for them to sleep on. After he finished with that, he was supposed to start a fire and gather wood to keep it fueled all night. Jack was in charge of finding edible food, either in the house or in the nearby town. Thomas was not to leave his mother's sight as he gathered blankets and pillows to make their beds more comfortable.

Elizabeth busied herself with moving the dusty furniture that was still in the room out of the way, making room for the mattresses. When Gibbs returned with a cot or mattress, she helped him lay it down. Then she dusted and once Gibbs had a fire going, started to boil a large pot of water, hoping to make a stew whenever Jack returned.

While she waited she carefully laid down the red salt along the two doorways to the room. It was pointless and wasteful to use the salt at every entry to the house. There were probably servant's entries that she didn't even know of, and therefore they would still be unprotected. Putting the salt in the room they were sleeping in seemed like the most logical thing to do.

She took her time on the task, making sure the line had no breaks; she felt just sprinkling the salt wasn't as effective as actually lining the threshold. Once she had finished she let herself breathe. They were safe…for now.

Outside the sun was beginning to sink behind the horizon, causing the first shadows of the coming night. Everyone had been ordered to return to their chosen sleeping room at sunset.

Gibbs walked into the room, nearly ruining her perfect line of salt, carrying a stack of logs for the fire.

"Have you seen Jack?" Elizabeth asked him. The troublesome pirate still hadn't retuned and the sunlight was nearly gone.

"No, I haven't." he answered as he put a few logs on the fire, stoking it back to life. "But don't worry, I'm sure he'll be along."

"I told him to be back here at sunset," she said, irritated.

Gibbs chuckled. "He's never been the best at followin' orders."

The old pirate was right, Jack was a constant rule breaker, but she wished he had listened to her this time. A dangerous vampire was on the loose, hunting them for an unknown reason. Anything could happen to Jack, and Elizabeth didn't want his death on her conscious.

She began pacing the room, her gaze shifting between Thomas, who kept drifting in and out of sleep in one of the remaining lounge chairs, and the windows on the west side of the room. The sun had completely disappeared behind a hill in the distance, and darkness engulfed the house and town. Jack was nowhere to be seen. Even Gibbs seemed to be getting worried about him.

"I'm going to find him," Elizabeth declared, slipping on her soft leather boots. "And when I do find him, I'm going to kill him." His irresponsibility was unbelievably frustrating.

Just as she stood up, she heard him coming. He entered the room, singing a bawdy tune, horribly off-key. He had a large basket in his arms, filled with meat and vegetables.

"Jack! Where in the world have you been all this time?" Elizabeth asked, relief and anger washing over her at the same time.

"Waiting up for me, luv?" Jack replied, sidestepping her question. He handed her the basket. "Did ye miss me?"

"You had me worried sick," she exclaimed, and to her further frustration, he smiled. "Not to mention we are all starved! Do you mind telling me why you are so late?"

"I got a little sidetracked," he admitted, lifting a bottle to his lips and taking a swig.

It was clear that Jack was intoxicated. If it hadn't been clear before, it certainly was now. She sighed in exasperation, but she could feel her anger ebbing away. She was still upset about his lack of discipline, but her heart went out to him. All this being-hunted-by-a-vicious-vampire business must be getting to Jack more than he let on. At least, that's what she liked to tell herself. The pirate just had different ways to relieve his anxiety than the rest of them.

"Let's get you settled for the night," she said softly, softening even further when the pirate fell asleep on his feet, nearly tipping over. She grabbed his arms to steady him and motioned for Gibbs to take over. He took the half-empty bottle from Jack's hand and steered him in the direction of his mattress.

Elizabeth turned her attention to making a stew. By the time it was done cooking, the moon had risen and it had started raining. She spooned the stew into bowls and passed them out to everyone. They ate in relative silence, listening to the rain pitter-pattering against the windows.

Jack and Gibbs consumed their food without the aid of utensils, not fussing with formalities. Thomas gobbled down his first bowl and pleaded with his mother for a second. She couldn't deny her son, although she knew that they should save as much of the stew as possible.

Elizabeth's appetite was the opposite of her son's and she hardly touched her food. She forced herself to eat some of her stew, knowing she would need her strength tomorrow and in the coming days. She didn't know when or if she would get to eat a hearty stew like she had the option of eating tonight.

After dinner they could hardly keep heir eyes open and went to bed. Gibbs had found three down-feather mattresses and an old cot. He generously took the cot, saying that he was used to sleeping on uncomfortable beds. He added that it was a vast improvement from the floor of a pigsty.

His choice gave the other three mattresses to Jack, Thomas and Elizabeth. Soon, they were all snuggled in for the night. Gibbs and Jack wore their clothes to bed, something they were used to from living at sea. Thomas changed into one of his mother's spare tunics that she had gotten from Madame Harriet. Elizabeth kept her breeches on, but had exchanged her slim-fitting top for a billowy shirt she had found in one of the other rooms. It was more comfortable and less restricting than her pervious shirt.

Within minutes everyone fell asleep…except Elizabeth. No matter how she tried she couldn't get comfortable, so she tossed and turned, trying to find a good position to sleep in. When she had finally settled into the fetal position, she didn't feel tired anymore. She focused on listening to the steady rainfall outside, which had picked up since dinner, but Gibbs' snoring continually distracted her. Finally she closed her eyes, trying to block everything out. After what seemed like hours, she drifted off to the sounds of the rain and the crackling fire.

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_Author's Note: I know that this chapter was a little boring. Sorry. The next o__ne has a lot of action though that hopefully makes up for any yawns in this one. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Please review! It means a lot to me to know what is on your mind when you're reading! Thanks!_


	9. Chapter 8: The Nightmare Gets Worse

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.**

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**Chapter Eight:**

**_The Nightmare Gets Worse_**

Once asleep, Elizabeth began to dream. However, instead of seeing the tiny farmhouse or the surrounding cornfields, Elizabeth found herself standing in the lounge she and the others had chosen to sleep in, except now everything was in it proper place and she stood alone. Thunder rumbled loudly, causing the glass chandelier above her to shake.

It was pitch black outside. The rain was coming down in torrents, relentlessly pouring down the windows. The inside of the house was cold, and there were no candles in the lounge. Light came in from the hallway, but it was very dim.

Suddenly, Elizabeth heard gleeful laughter coming from somewhere down the hall, the happy sound contradicting the darkness and the anxiety she was feeling. She wanted to investigate the sound, but wasn't sure if she should. It came to her again, practically calling her to follow it. Sticking her head out of the doorway, she saw that the end of the hallway was much brighter.

The laughing seemed to be coming from a room at the end of the hallway. Elizabeth hesitated on the threshold of the lounge room, but her curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to know who was laughing; there seemed to be two voices. Stepping out into the hall, she strolled down the bare corridor, passing many closed-off rooms until she got to the last door, which was open.

The room was brightly lit with candles and a healthy fire glowed in the fireplace, giving Elizabeth a clear view of the room. The walls were painted a warm butterscotch yellow, the drapes were a light shade of blue that reminded her of the sky on a clear day, and the furniture was solid white oak. Numerous drawings and paintings done by a child's hand covered the walls. Dolls and various other toys littered the ground. Elizabeth had just walked into her childhood playroom, but she hardly paid attention to the memories swarming around her.

She could only focus on the two people in the room.

A little four-year-old girl with a heedful of unruly curls and dressed in a pastel pink dressing gown was snuggled up against a beautiful woman who was dressed in a similar fashion, her silky strawberry-blonde hair held back by a white ribbon. The pair was sitting on a couch made for two, the mother reading from a storybook.

Elizabeth could feel the tears gathering in her eyes as she looked upon her mother and a younger version of herself. Hardly any memories remained concerning her mother, and she could never be sure if the memories she did have actually happened or if she had made them up to fill the hole in her heart. Her mother had been taken from her far too early.

As a child she had cried and said it was unfair. For a while, she had even been angry at her mother for leaving her. However, as she grew up, Elizabeth realized it hadn't been her mother's fault; that she hadn't planned on dying when she did.

She had also learned just how unfair life really was. Currently she had no living relatives, hardly any reliable friends, and she only got to see Will once every ten years. Not to mention someone was after her and her son for no knowledgeable reason. No, life was never fair, but Elizabeth had learned to cope.

"Mummy," the little Elizabeth said, interrupting the story. "Tell me the story about the locket again. Please?"

Her mother chuckled as she closed the storybook. She tenderly picked up the heart-shaped locket around her daughter's neck.

Across the room, the grown Elizabeth's fingers reached up to play with the locket as well. She hardly went anywhere without it. Back when she had first received it as a gift from her mother, a portrait of her each of her parents had been inside. Unfortunately, her father's portrait had been lost over time. Fearing to lose her mother's portrait as well, she had removed it and placed it in a memory box in her home. Now the locket contained drawings of Will and Thomas.

"You're father gave me this locket in place of a ring when he asked me to marry him," her mother told the child. "He couldn't afford the band he wanted to buy me, but he didn't want to wait to ask me to marry him."

"Because you had other suitors," her daughter supplied.

"Yes. Many," the older woman stated, smiling. "Your father was very lucky I was in love with him. My father wanted me to steer clear of him, but he eventually accepted my decision."

"Why didn't your papa like daddy?" little Elizabeth asked.

"Well, he didn't have much money when we first met, and he wasn't a governor like he is now. And when he gave me the locket instead of a ring, my father was furious."

"What did he do?"

"You know what he did. He picked your daddy up by the back of his jacket and tossed him out of the house."

This statement sent the little girl into a fit of giggles, her mother laughing along with her. The dreaming Elizabeth had moved next to the fireplace and was smiling, remembering the story she had often requested to hear.

Hurried footsteps could be heard in the hall. Perhaps her father was coming up to join the rest of his family. All eyes turned to the doorway.

Nothing could have prepared Elizabeth for seeing the person who was standing there.

The shock that Elizabeth felt could be heard in her mother's frightened gasp. The two happy people jumped to their feet, all traces of mirth gone. Her mother looked scared, while the smaller version of herself looked confused.

"Mummy, who is that?" she heard herself ask.

Elizabeth had seen him before on multiple occasions. It was the young man from all of her other nightmares that was standing in front of them, drenched from running in the pouring rain. If the boy was here, where was her father? Had the young man managed to get away from her father and the mob at the farmhouse? Why was he here?

Elizabeth's mother pushed her daughter behind her, putting herself between her and the dark young man.

"What are you doing here Eric?" she asked, making Elizabeth realize that her mother knew the boy.

Eric was breathing heavily from running. "Getting justice," he said in a low voice, drawing a dagger from his belt and quickly advancing on her mother.

"Run Elizabeth!" she yelled at her daughter. The young girl fled from behind her mother, but only made it to the doorway before stopping and looking back. Eric had completely ignored her, going after her mother instead. The slender woman had grabbed the young man's hands and was trying to fight him off.

"Eric, please don't do this!" she pleaded, struggling to keep the dagger from piercing her heart.

He ignored her cries for reason.

Little Elizabeth tried to be brave and ran toward the man trying to hurt her mother. She latched herself onto his bare leg and sunk her tiny teeth into it. Eric cursed loudly, finding the child's action annoying rather than painful. Never ceasing his attack on her mother, Eric kicked the child off of him violently. Her small body flew a few feet in the air before landing by the fireplace. The dreaming Elizabeth looked down at her unconscious miniature feeling as helpless as her child form was.

_I don't even remember being knocked out,_ Elizabeth thought. _No wonder I don't recall how my mother died. I never saw it._ Her eyes turned from the non-moving child sprawled on the floor back to the two people fighting.

"Elizabeth!" her mother cried out, afraid for her child.

It was obvious that her strength was giving out rapidly. The dagger inched closer and closer to her chest. With one last grunt of exertion, her mother quickly brought her knee up, striking Eric in the groin. The young man's hands immediately dropped to the injured area as he shouted in anger and agony.

Elizabeth's mother pushed past him and rushed over to her unconscious daughter. Just before she could scoop her daughter up though, Eric's blade embedded itself in her shoulder, narrowly missing the woman's heart. She screamed as the dagger was removed and she staggered backward, knocking over an end table and plant as she retreated toward the balcony doors. Blood poured from her would, staining the light fabric of her dress.

Eric stalked her until all of her possible escape routes were cut off. The bloody dagger was still in his hand, poised and ready to deliver the final blow.

"Why?" Elizabeth's mother panted, tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

"Because your husband is a conniving, lying bastard who murdered my parents so no one would ever know the truth," he replied, continuing to move forward.

Elizabeth was completely confused by the man's words, but her mother seemed to accept his response. Still, she wasn't about to give up the fight.

She lunged forward and tried to push Eric out of her way, but he was too strong for her. He threw her down to the floor and drove the dagger deep into her mother's belly.

"No!" Elizabeth shouted, her knees failing her. She grabbed onto the fireplace mantle to keep herself upright as the nightmare continued.

Her mother's eyes went momentarily wide with terror and pain before becoming blank as death took over her body. Eric straddled her, his hand still clamped on his weapon, until he felt her last breath leave her body. Within moments, a small pool of blood had formed on the floor beneath her.

"Mother!" Elizabeth gasped, her voice no louder than a whisper. She slowly slid down the wall, joining her child-form on the floor near the fireplace. A tidal wave of emotions swept over her, engulfing her to the point where she couldn't breathe.

By this point, her nightmare should have ended. Elizabeth was thoroughly distraught and shaken. She had also discovered that her mother had been murdered in front of her by a vengeful farm boy.

But the nightmare continued.

On the other side of the room, Eric bent over and removed the lethal dagger from her mother's lifeless body. He wiped the blood on the hem of her nightdress and returned the dagger to his belt.

Then he turned, chuckling evilly, and stared directly at Elizabeth, as if he knew she was there. As if he could see her. Elizabeth's heart dropped into her stomach as it became clear that he _could_ see her and that he was laughing at her.

_But that's impossible,_ she thought frantically. _He's never seen me in any of my other dreams._

That didn't change the fact that he could see her now.

"Yes, I killed her," he confirmed for the speechless Elizabeth. It was an unnecessary statement. That fact had been terribly clear.

Suddenly the dream world she had been in vanished. Her mother's body along with the four-year-old Elizabeth's body disappeared. The toys and drawings around the room melted away, leaving the room dark, dusty, and cold. Elizabeth could see her breath in front of her, coming in short rapid puffs. It was still raining outside, the storm stronger than ever.

Most alarming; however, was that Eric still stood on the other side of the room, staring at her. A small, ugly smile had come to his face. Elizabeth could see two pointed teeth, confirming that Eric was a vampire, just as Madame Harriet had guessed.

He had aged considerably from the dream, but he looked nothing like the homeless man who had shown up on Harriet's doorstep. No, Eric looked to be in his late thirties and was tall, dark and handsome, just as Jack had described him. His nearly black hair barely touched his shoulders. He was clean shaven and stood like royalty, his chin held high. His eyes where completely black, reminding her of a raven. They were glaring at her, cold and unfeeling. If he hadn't been looking at her that way, he might have been pleasing to the eye.

Elizabeth looked him up and down a few times, her eyes still unbelieving. Even under his clothes, she could make out well-developed muscles. She also noticed that where his dagger had been in her nightmare there was now a long sword, it's hilt gleaming in the moonlight.

He caught her staring at his weapon.

"I've upgraded since your mother's death," he commented, his sneer growing wider.

Finally Elizabeth's brain began to process the information it had been swamped with.

"It…it…it was you…" she stammered, finding her voice.

"Didn't I just say as much?" he responded, apparently pleased with her confusion.

She stood on shaking feet, but every moment she grew stronger.

"Why?" she asked, breathless.

"You know perfectly well why," he snarled at her repetitive question, showing his teeth like an aggressive dog. "You saw what your father did. He ordered my parent's deaths! I wanted justice!"

"How could you know…?" she began, wondering how he could possibly know about her nightmares.

"You don't really think it's a coincidence that you started having those dreams do you? I made you have them. I controlled your mind and gave you access to my memories through dreams."

She didn't see how her first nightmare, where she had seen his parents viciously murdered, could be a memory of his, since he hadn't been present, but she didn't tell him that. She let him believe what he wanted.

"Why did you kill my mother though? She never did anything to you or your family!" she exclaimed.

"My parents were good and honest people," he countered. "That didn't spare them from being murdered! They didn't deserve to die!"

"Neither did my mother!" she screamed, her hands balled into fists, shaking at her sides.

"No, your mother didn't _deserve_ to die," he began, breaking eye contact and glancing down. Was that regret she saw reflected in his eyes? "But your father deserved to suffer. That's why she died! It's his fault! She suffered the consequences of his poor decisions. Your mother's death changed him forever." His gaze had returned to being filled with hatred.

"Well, his suffering is over now," she spat back. "He's dead. You can't torture him anymore."

"No…but I can kill you and finally get the closure I've been seeking!" he hissed, drawing his long sword from its scabbard. The deadly metal gleamed an eerie shade of silver in the pale moonlight as he approached her menacingly.

Elizabeth's fighting instincts took over and she quickly scanned her surroundings for something to fight with. There weren't many choices since this had been a child's room, but glancing down she saw a fire-poker leaning against the unused fireplace. Remaining still until the last possible moment, she waited for Eric to attack. Just as he swung his sword at her head, she ducked and grabbed the fire-poker.

With a firm grip on her impromptu weapon, she hastily crossed the room, attempting to put distance between herself and her adversary. Eric turned toward her and she saw bewilderment and excitement flash across his eyes. He was enjoying this.

"I won't die as easily as you think," she told him, trying to deter him from his mission. All her statement did was make him smile.

"Good. That will make killing you all the more satisfying," he replied.

He charged at her again and Elizabeth barely had time to sidestep him. The sword caught the billowy fabric of her shirt, creating a large hole. If she had moved a second later, that hole would have been in her ribcage.

Adrenaline and previous life-or-death experiences kept her calm and focused on her next move. She dodged his next swing and delivered a blow to his upper back, putting all of her strength behind her swing. He bent over in pain but recovered quickly. She didn't even have time to back away.

Eric lunged at her again with a battle cry, trying to spear her with his weapon. Elizabeth was caught off guard and hardly deflected the blow. The sword glanced off her arm and a searing pain engulfed that area of her body, making her cry out.

The fight wasn't going well, but Elizabeth was in no mood to die. Not giving up, she crouched down before Eric could swing again and hit him below the knees with the fire-poker. He crumpled, falling forward, his sword spearing the glass of the balcony doors instead of its intended target. Elizabeth rolled out from under him just in time to avoid being squashed. She stood back up, breathing heavily from exertion. To her amazement, and horror, Eric was already jumping to his feet, sending bits of shattered glass flying in all directions.

The rain from outside began to blow inside, making matters even worse.

"You're very quick," Eric stated, sounding a little frustrated.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said in a mocking tone.

He laughed through his nose, the sound coming out as a snort. Then he raised his sword again and let off a string of swings and blows that Elizabeth struggled to parry; he was so much stronger than her. Stronger and faster. When he paused momentarily, she realized that the poker was bent and could no longer be used to fight or defend herself. But it could be used for one thing.

She hurled the metal weapon at her attacker, the blow hitting him in the face. He howled in pain at the unexpected action, his free hand flying up to his eyes and nose. While he was temporarily distracted, Elizabeth seized her opportunity and kicked his sword arm, dislodging the sword from his grip. It clattered loudly to the hardwood floor.

"No!" he bellowed as she dove after it.

Elizabeth's hand had just grasped the weapon when Eric jumped on her, tackling her and forcing her to lie on her back. He was sitting on top of her, one hand tightly clamped around her slender throat, the other preventing her from striking him with the sword. The rough hand around her throat began to squeeze and Elizabeth was unable to breathe.

"Like mother like daughter," Eric sneered. "I suppose I should ask you if you have any last words. Is there anything you'd like to tell your son? I'll be sure to tell him before I kill him."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide at the mention of her son. She had to think. Fast.

She nodded furiously, hoping to buy herself some time. Eric lessened his grip just slightly and she pretended to gasp for breath. She moved her lips and whispered raspy words so the vampire had to lean in to hear what she was trying to say.

When she had him exactly where she wanted him, she pitched her head forward with as much force as she could muster. Their foreheads collided and the vampire jumped back, both of his hands reaching up to his throbbing head.

Elizabeth didn't waste any time and quickly grabbed the sword.

As Eric recovered, Elizabeth turned his own weapon against him. Without hesitation she plunged the sword into his stomach, pushing it as far as she could. The vampire stood up and thrashed around in pain and surprise.

He screamed in agony, stumbling backward through the shattered doorway. His eyes were glazed over. It was obvious that he had thought it was impossible for him to lose this fight.

Elizabeth stood and followed him out onto the balcony, not paying attention to the sharp pains the glass created in her feet. She wanted to be there for her enemy's final moments. She wanted to see him die.

"This isn't fair!" he gasped pathetically, sounding like a whiny child.

"Yes, well, life isn't fair," she retorted, pushing a lock of hair that was plastered to the side of her face behind her ear. She gripped the wound on her arm, trying to stem the blood flow.

Suddenly Eric pushed himself off the balcony railing and tried to grab her. Elizabeth easily evaded him because his actions were slower. Eric missed her, but his hand caught on the necklace of her locket, ripping it from her throat. Elizabeth hardly noticed, focused on killing the vampire.

With a satisfied smile she kicked the hilt of his sword for a final time. The force of her kick sent her opponent falling backward, tumbling over the railing and into the bushes below.

The adrenaline that had been sustaining her strength during the battle was depleted. Elizabeth fell to her knees on the balcony, slumping over from exhaustion and pain, her injured and weak body unable to keep going.

* * *

_Author's Note: Just wanted to say that this chapter was partially inspired by a friend, who knows what kind of trouble you can get into from sleepwalking! I hope you liked the chapter. I am not sure that I write action sequences well, so please leave me a comment and tell me how I did. Did it seem realistic? What could I do to make it better? Should I add/take out parts? I hope nothing was confusing. Tell me if it was. Thanks for reading!_


	10. Chapter 9: The New Friend

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Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or any of the characters that you recognize. I am making no profit off of this story.

_Author Note: _Okay, so when we last left off, Elizabeth had just discovered that Eric, the vampire, was responsible for her mother's death. Sorry, its taken me so long to get this posted. I plan on posting the rest of the story today. So here's chapter nine. Please read and review. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

_**The New Friend**_

"Elizabeth? Hello?"

Jack's voice sounded distant and far away. Elizabeth knew she should get his attention somehow. She tried to open her eyes, but the effort needed to do so proved too great. Next she attempted to move, but the cold rain pelting her body seemed to be pinning her to the balcony. Finally, she tried calling out to him, but her voice was nothing but whispers.

Thunder rumbled behind her and a flash of lightning lit up the sky as the storm grew in intensity. Gusts of wind coming from the ocean bent the trees surrounding the manor house. The rain was coming down in visible sheets.

"Elizabeth!" Jack shouted again, but this time in triumph. He had found her. Sobs she barely contained from escaping caused her body to shake. She was exhausted from fighting Eric and her mind was flooded with the images of her mother's last moments.

"Jack…" she managed to say in a hoarse whisper as he knelt down beside her. Shattered glass crunched under his boots as he lifted her to a sitting position.

"Shh…save yer strength. I'll get ye back inside," he assured her. With a grunt of effort, he roughly hoisted her up, slinging her over his shoulder like a gunnysack. Hunching his back, he carefully wound his way through the room. "Ye never lost the baby weight I see," he remarked exaggerating his panting, trying to lighten the mood. Although she felt she should be offended, Elizabeth smiled against his back.

A few moments later they were back in the lounge room, and Jack carefully set Elizabeth down on a chaise. Then he wiped his forehead in a dramatic fashion and let out a big breath of air. "Ye'd best not be seriously injured, 'cause I ain't lugging ye 'round like that any more. Me back has enough problems." Behind the mirth in his eyes was true concern.

"Mum…" Thomas whispered close to her ear, his voice scared and worried. His face was pale and he looked ready to cry. Elizabeth knew she must look wretched for him to worry so.

She put a comforting arm around him and kissed his forehead. "It's alright honey. I'm going to be okay," she mumbled against his warm skin.

"Not if ye don't clean those wounds ye won't," Gibbs warned. "They'll get all infected with gangrene and then we'll have to cut off yer arm and feet."

Thomas' breath caught in his chest and his bottom lip started to quiver. "That will be quite enough of that Mr. Gibbs," Elizabeth scolded the old pirate. "I intend to dress the wounds very well. I'm not so foolish to just let them fester and cause me grief. Would you be so kind as to fetch me some clean water, soap, and cloth?"

"Course," he agreed and ran toward the door to get the requested supplies. He stopped before crossing the threshold. "Um…is that thing that attacked ye still out there?" he asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. Without another word, Gibbs nodded and left.

Jack brought her a dry blanket and a bowl of slightly warm stew, which she readily accepted. The food filled her empty stomach and warmed her up, making her feel ten times better. After she was finished, she began addressing her wounds.

Gibbs returned just as she was rolling up her sleeve to reach the gash on her arm. The bleeding had pretty much stopped, and she washed it with soap and water before wrapping it with a clean cloth. Next she bandaged her feet, digging out the bits of glass that she had stepped on. Everyone in the room was silent while she tended to her injuries.

Thomas was the first to break the silence. "Mum, what happened?"

"Well, I was having another nightmare…and when I woke up I was in a different part of the house. I assume I had been sleepwalking, but I've never done that before. But it's the only way I could have ended up down the hall without my knowledge."

"But ye just said ye've never done it before. Why on Earth would ye pick now ta start something like that?" Jack questioned.

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "I don't think I did it willingly. I think he was controlling my actions. He said he controlled my dreams, so I must be vulnerable when I sleep. Didn't Madame Harriet say vampires could control the weak-minded?"

"Well, yes, but yer hardly weak-minded," Gibbs offered.

"Perhaps not when I'm awake, but I maybe when I'm sleeping," she added.

"So yer saying ye were lured and attacked by a vampire? Like Harriet said?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Elizabeth stated. "His name is…was Eric."

"'Was'?" Thomas repeated, confused. "What do you mean 'was'?"

She fixed the knot of the bandage on her arm. "Eric's dead. I killed him."

* * *

"He should have fallen right around here," Elizabeth announced, glancing up at the balcony above her and then down at the overgrown bushes in front of her.

"Well, bodies don't just get up and walk away," Gibbs said, splitting the bushes apart to look behind them.

But he didn't find anything. No one did. There was no trace of Eric's body. The only evidence that something had happened was because the tops of the bushes were broken and dented, as if something heavy had landed there recently, yet nothing was there now.

"Yer sure ye killed the bloke? Ye weren't just…I don't know…dreamin?" Jack asked, his tone slightly skeptical.

"No, I most certainly was not dreaming when I killed him. Dreams don't leave you with scars. At least no dreams that I know of," she stated, indicating her bandaged arm.

"True."

"What if he wasn't dead when he fell off the balcony? He could have dragged himself somewhere," Thomas suggested.

The three adults beamed at the child's hypothesis and they spread out to search the area around the balcony, but their efforts were fruitless. No corpse was uncovered, and there were no tracks of any kind to hint where Eric could have dragged himself. The intense rain from the previous night would have washed away any footprints or drag marks the vampire might have left behind.

"We might never find him," Gibbs said, wiping perspiration from his face. "The grounds are huge. He could be anywhere."

"I agree with Gibbs. The body could be anywhere, and we're wastin' our time lookin' fer it," Jack declared. "I say what's done is done. We should ferget all about this nasty business and go home."

Home. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to go back to her cottage and resume life as normal. At the moment she wanted to submerge herself in domestic duties and put danger and adventure behind her.

Did they really need to find Eric's body? The vampire was dead and wouldn't be chasing after them anymore. The best thing for all of them to do would be to return to their normal lives. Elizabeth looked at each of their faces. They seemed to be waiting to hear an answer from her.

Letting out a sigh, she said, "Yes. Let's go home."

* * *

After packing up their provisions they set out for Elizabeth's cottage.

"So, how long will you be staying with us, Uncle Jack?" Thomas asked as the group made its way through town.

"Yes, how long?" Elizabeth repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, my schooner is ready to put to sea at anytime, but I'd like to find meself a worthy crew before hoisting anchor," the pirate explained.

"Oh? And what happened to your last _un_worthy crew?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Well, ye see…" Jack began what probably would have been an interesting and lavishly told tale, except that he was interrupted by a loud clattering of cans and metal coming from the alleyway they were approaching. Jack immediately drew his pistol and aimed it at the offending noise. Elizabeth's hand was on the hilt of her sword, the weapon half unsheathed. Gibbs pushed Thomas behind him and let Elizabeth and Jack go first.

"Who's there?" Jack called out. "Show yerself!" More noises sounded from the shadowy alleyway at Jack's shouts.

"Look Mum," Thomas said, pointing at the creature that emerged from between the piles of trash.

An extremely malnourished and filthy dog came into the light, staring up at them with sad black eyes. It shook its matted fur coat, causing dust and dirt to create a cloudy haze around the animal. Elizabeth sighed in relief and replaced her sword. Jack followed suit.

"Poor dog," Thomas muttered, regarding the mutt with kind eyes.

"Come on, let's keep moving," Elizabeth commanded, turning her attention back to the road.

The party began to trudge forward, but Thomas couldn't leave the starving animal without doing something. He took some bacon that he had saved from breakfast from his pocket and offered it to the dog. The animal quickly ate the scraps, licking the child's hand clean and making him laugh.

"Thomas, what are you doing?" his mother asked. "Now he'll follow us home."

"But he was hungry Mum," Thomas explained, wiping his slobbery hand on his breeches. "I couldn't let him starve."

"Oh, but ye'll starve fer a mangy mutt?" Jack asked. "Not a wise choice, me boy."

"We're almost home. I'll eat there," Thomas retorted, his hands on his hips.

The dog in question had come up behind Thomas and was nudging his hands and sniffing his pants in search of more meat. The boy rubbed the filthy dog behind his ears, causing the dog's tail to wag furiously. Thomas smiled down at the dog. Elizabeth hadn't seen him so happy in a long time.

Then the inevitable question was asked. "Can we keep him?"

She responded automatically with a "No."

Both Thomas and the pathetic creature beside him both gave her puppy-dog eyes. It was hard to tell which was more endearing.

"Please?" Thomas implored.

How could she turn him down without feeling like a horrible mother? Thomas would have a companion and a friend. It would also serve as a good lesson in responsibility. She sighed in surrender. "He'll need a bath immediately as soon as we get home," she told him, trying not to smile.

The boy ran to his mother and embraced her. "Thank you!" he exclaimed. The dog seemed to understand his acceptance into the family and celebrated by barking loudly and jumping around the humans.

* * *

They arrived home without further incident and they started the process of returning to normalcy. First, Elizabeth concentrated on cooking supper while Jack and Gibbs rearranged the living room so that they could have a place to sleep. Thomas hadn't even set foot in the house before running down to the shore to give his furry friend a much needed bath. Elizabeth was glad to see her son excited about something.

"Hey Mum, you have to see this!" he announced as he walked in the door, the dog following close behind him.

It was astounding what some soap and water could do. Originally the dog had appeared a muddy brown, but in actuality, it was as black as midnight, except for a patch of white around its neck and chest. Thomas pointed at the distinctive marking.

"Look. It looks just like a heart," the boy said, indicating the large patch of white in the middle of the dog's chest. The fur really did resemble a heart and with the thin line of white fur wrapping around its neck, it looked like a necklace.

"Pretty ironic for it being a boy doggie," Jack noted, skinning an apple and peering over at the dog.

"It's amazing," Thomas countered, patting the dog's head.

"Odd, more like," Gibbs corrected, his tone superstitious.

"Yes, it is odd," Elizabeth agreed, unable to take her gaze off the marking. "It reminds me of something…" she added, trying to think of why it seemed familiar. A curse escaped Jack's lips, breaking her out of her trance.

"Jack!" she scolded.

"Sorry, luv. Cut meself. This knife is sharper than I thought it was," he said, wiggling the knife between his fingers.

"What are you doing with Will's dagger!" she shouted, jumping to her feet and taking the sharp instrument from Jack's hands.

"I was just slicing up an apple," he explained.

"Use another knife. No one uses this dagger," she stated, cradling the gift from her husband with loving hands.

"Sorry, next time I'll ask," Jack replied as Elizabeth moved toward her bedroom.

She opened a wooden chest where she kept all of her jewelry and carefully placed the knife inside. That was when she realized her locket was missing. It wasn't hanging around her neck and it wasn't in the chest either. Had she lost it somewhere? She began to panic.

"Which one of you has my locket?" she asked as she came back into the main room. "Have any of you seen it?"

Before anyone could tell her they had no idea where her treasured trinket was, they heard voices and footsteps approaching outside.

* * *

_Author's Note: _I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know much didn't happen, but all good things come in time and I hate leaving out sections of the story that are important for future chapters. Leave me some comments and keep reading.


	11. Chapter 10: The Unexpected Ambush

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters you recognize. I am making no profit from this story.**

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_Author Note: _For those of you that like action, you will probably enjoy this chapter. But it also has some key ideas, so don't skip over it if action's not your thing. You'll regret it if you do! As always, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy...

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**Chapter Ten:  
****  
**_**The Unexpected Ambush  
**_

"Uh-oh," Jack said as he looked out of the window.

"What now?" Elizabeth questioned, still distracted by the absence of her heart-shaped locket.

"Well, it's nothing really…unless ye consider a mob a Gypsies headed fer yer cottage with torches and drawn swords to be something of importance," he responded casually.

_Can my life never be peaceful?_ she thought inwardly.

"Why don't ye go see what it is they be wanting Mr. Gibbs," proposed Jack.

"No need to ask 'em. They've probably come fer me head," he replied. "Or didja ferget that I shot down two o' their kin?"

"Best to be sure," the other pirate declared, pushing his friend toward the door.

Gibbs dug his heels into the floor, attempting to stall. "Now wait just a minute," he protested, turning to face Jack. "Yer the one who stole the horse with the fancy bridle, which _caused_ me to shoot those two blokes. Maybe it's _you_ they're after," he suggested, warming to the idea.

"What's a horse and bridle worth? Ye killed two men," Jack scoffed.

"Ye'd be surprised how touchy they are about their horses. Plus, that bridle was some sacred object of theirs. They're probably still offended that ye took it."

"Maybe both of you should go out there," Thomas put in, breaking up the debate.

"Shut your mouths. All of you," Elizabeth ordered, taking charge. Time was of the essence. They couldn't waste it by arguing. "Now, listen up. Thomas, go start packing up the bags again. Take only what's necessary, and keep it as light as possible. Gibbs—weapons. Jack you're coming with me to talk to the Gypsies. After all, you _did_ start this by stealing that horse."

"But I only wanted the…" he began to protest.

"Now!" she shouted.

Shutting his mouth and giving her a dramatic salute, he marched out the door, looking as if he were walking toward the executioner. She wasn't sure if his expression was meant to be a joke, or if he was being serious. With a heavy sigh and a glance over her shoulder, Elizabeth followed him to see if there was any chance of settling matters peacefully. Outside over twenty Gypsy men were waiting to greet them.

Before she had fully crossed the threshold, Jack began addressing the angry men who had assembled on her front lawn. "Now, gents, I understand that yer all a tad mad about the whole horse situation, but…can't we just put that behind us?" he asked, his arms speaking as loudly as his actual words. "I'm sorry I took that bridle thingy. If I'd have known ye'd be this protective of it I wouldn't have tried ta take it. And ye've got yer stupid beast back. So as I see it, that settles things between us. So do us a favor and shove off!"

"Jack!" Elizabeth hissed, afraid that he was creating even more trouble for them. The last thing she needed at the moment was for him to get himself killed over a foolish comment.

In front of them, the mob parted to reveal a horse and rider. The man astride the black stallion was garbed in beautiful cloths and linens; jewels could be seen glittering on his belt and turban. He was riding the horse that Jack had stolen. It was obvious that the man before them was the prince of the Gypsy people. _We must be in real trouble,_ she thought.

A silence fell over the crowd before the prince began to speak. "You and your friends should never have returned here. Your crimes are extremely serious. You have not only disgraced the Gypsy race with your antics and actions, you have also stolen a priceless and practically sacred icon from us and murdered two of our brothers. These heinous deeds are punishable by death," he announced and the mob murmured in agreement.

"But…" Jack began to explain his motives again for steeling the steed and invaluable bridle; however, just as he opened his mouth to speak, an arrow whizzed by his head, narrowly missing his ear and embedding itself in the cottage door behind them. Had he not been swaying his head back and forth, the arrow would not have missed its intended target. The Gypsies were serious about seeking their revenge.

Elizabeth yanked Jack into the house by the back of his coat, slamming the door just in time to hear another volley of arrows thud against the wood. "So much for talking out our differences," she muttered to herself before adding, "We need to get out of here now!"

"Any ideas on how, exactly, we do that?" Gibbs asked, handing her a long sword and an array of daggers, which she accepted eagerly.

"Do I have to think of everything?" she exclaimed, frustrated. More arrows hit the house, shattering the front window.

"What about Uncle Jack's boat?" Thomas suggested, handing out supply bags.

"Brilliant! Jack, where did you dock?" she asked, praying that it was somewhere close. They wouldn't be able to outrun the Gypsies for long.

"It's in a cove 'bout a quarter of a mile from here. Had ta keep it hidden, on the account that I stole it."

"What direction?" she barked, ignoring how he had acquired the vessel.

Outside the Gypsy prince gave the order to surround the cottage. A moment later, arrows hit the roof of the cottage, and Elizabeth instinctively knew the house was on fire. They didn't have much time.

"West. We should be able ta get ta it if we keep close to the shore," Jack predicted.

"Alright, let's go. We'll take the tunnel. Thomas, stay close to me."

"Tunnel?" Gibbs asked.

Elizabeth ran to her bedroom and tossed the mattress on her bed against the wall, revealing a trap door. "I had it dug as a precaution when the house was built. Remember I am a Pirate King. I thought it would be wise to have an escape route available, although I never thought I'd have to use it," she admitted.

Smoke from the fire was rapidly filling the house and off in the distance Elizabeth heard part of the roof cave in. The Gypsies could be heard cheering, thinking that their enemies would have to come out soon. It was practically a game for them.

"Hurry," Elizabeth yelled, lifting the wooden door. Jack went in first, followed by Gibbs. Thomas and his dog followed the old pirate and Elizabeth brought up the rear.

Crawling on their hands and knees through the darkness they made their great escape. A few minutes later Gibbs pushed a large rock aside and they emerged at the foot of the hill on the shore of the ocean.

"Okay, let's move before they see us," Elizabeth whispered, heading in the direction of Jack's boat.

No one spoke, they just kept running. Even Thomas' dog remained quiet, making Elizabeth wonder if the dog understood the danger they were in or if it was just a coincidence. Jack's schooner came into sight just as the Gypsies discovered they had escaped. Elizabeth smiled in triumph as they boarded the sleek vessel.

They weighed anchor and drifted out into open water, letting the waves and wind carry them. Once they were a mile out to sea, Jack took control of the wheel, steering them to another part of the coast and into the sunset. Elizabeth stood on deck, gazing at the red haze that was her home. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to cry. Houses could be rebuilt after all. Still, it was upsetting to see her haven being burnt to the ground.

"Well, I don't think we have to worry 'bout our Gypsy friends anymore," Jack announced once the anchor had been lowered again. They were still far from shore, just as a precaution.

"No, they won't follow us out this far," Elizabeth concurred, yawning loudly. She was exhausted, and the rocking of the ship was slowly lulling her to sleep.

Jack noticed. "Why don't ye take the captain's cabin and go get some rest. There's no one out here but us. Go on, relax. We'll keep an eye on the boy. Maybe teach him a few of the constellations."

She couldn't refuse his generous offer, or the opportunity to sleep. With a smile of appreciation, she nodded and went into the captain's cabin. The room was sparsely furnished, but the quality of the pieces was remarkable for a small schooner. Elizabeth guessed that the ship had once belonged to a retired naval officer, but it was impossible to be sure. All of the furniture was oak and, as was custom on ships, it was nailed to the floor. This kept it from moving about during a storm or shifting slightly in normal waters.

Elizabeth changed into a nightgown her son had hastily stuffed into a bag. Then she brushed out her hair, a ritual she sometimes found relaxing before going to bed. Lastly, she changed her bandages on her arm and feet before crawling under the cotton covers of the large four-poster bed.

It took her a while to settle into a comfortable position, but after some tossing and turning she was able to adjust herself to the lumpy mattress. As she closed her eyes, she felt the covers being pulled up as another person slipped into the bed. The man was too big to be her son, but not big enough to be Mr. Gibbs…leaving only one possibility: Jack. Startled into full alertness, Elizabeth flipped over and punched the offending chest that was trying to press itself against her.

"Oomph!" he breathed.

"How dare you Jack Sparrow!" she exclaimed in a furious whisper as she leapt out of the bed. She didn't want Thomas to walk in and see them in this state. "You know that I would never betray…" but her voice died away as the man tossed back the covers.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"Will!" His name came out as a breathless whisper. Before she could swoon from shock, she jumped back into bed and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck in a fierce hug. Her mind couldn't believe what she was seeing. He returned her embrace just as vehemently, stroking her hair with one hand, and her back with the other.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" she asked, pulling back. "How did you…?" But she didn't really care how he had managed to get to her. He was there and that was all that mattered. She covered his face in numerous quick kisses before he captured her hungry lips with his.

His kiss was almost forceful with need, but Elizabeth's need was just as great. Their tongues danced a glorious tango as their mouths mated. He sucked on her bottom lip, causing her to whimper in the back of her throat. Will grunted his approval before claiming her lips in another passionate kiss, his mouth ravaging hers and vice versa.

By the time they broke apart, she was having trouble breathing. Will rubbed her arms and began kissing and sucking on her neck. The sensation was wonderful, but his hands were icy cold, which was odd given the humid weather.

"Will, your hands are freezing. Are you ill?"

He stopped kissing her neck and removed his hands from her arms. "No, not ill," he answered, climbing off of her and standing to face the sea. Elizabeth sat up, afraid she had upset him.

"It's just that…vampires tend to have cold hands."

A scream caught in her throat as Will's figure slowly molded and reshaped itself to resemble Eric. He turned to her, a wide grin spread across his face. "I believe it has something to do with the lack of blood flow," he added thoughtfully.

"How did you get on this ship?" It was the only question that she could pull from her knotted thoughts.

"Don't you remember? You carried me up in your own arms," he told her, his body changing shape again to resemble the dog they had found in the alley. Elizabeth couldn't think straight.

"How is that possible?" she asked herself more than Eric, who had reverted to his normal appearance in little more than a blink of the eye.

"It's really quite simple," he explained for her benefit, leaning casually against the chest of drawers, arms folded across his chest. "You see, I can take the shape of any person or animal that I have laid eyes on. Although I must say dogs are my specialty when it comes to animals. Beasts are a bit harder to change into. Their bone structures are different than humans."

"You've never seen Will," she countered, still sitting on the bed. There was no point to attack when she could get information out of him, and Eric seemed in no rush to kill her.

"Ah, well you were most helpful with that," he said, lifting her locket over his head and holding it up to the light of the moon. "The picture was all I needed, although if you had seen me in the light, you probably would have noticed some differences." He tossed the locket at her; she caught it out of the air.

"Honestly, I can't imagine why this Will of yours would leave such an amazing and passionate kisser such as you. If I were your husband…well I'd…" he trailed off, smiling smugly again.

Elizabeth took the opportunity while he was momentarily recalling their heated exchange to throw the bedcovers at him and make a mad dash for the entryway, grabbing her long sword just before shutting the door behind her in a feeble effort to stall Eric.

"Jack! Gibbs!" she shouted into the night air. "We've got company." She bolted across the main deck; behind her the door to the captain's cabin was wrenched open.

"You've got nowhere to run!" Eric declared, drawing his own sword and walking after her.

Jack and Gibbs were on their feet and gathering their weapons. "What the Devil is going on?" Gibbs asked.

"Eric," Elizabeth answered.

"The vampire?" clarified Jack.

"Yes! Where's Thomas?" she barked out, finally reaching the two pirates.

"He went below ta see if he could find any edible food," Gibbs supplied.

Jack was focused on another topic. "But I thought ye killed the vampire!"

"Well so did I," she stated. "Jack, hoist anchor. Gibbs, protect Thomas. I'll take Eric."

Elizabeth descended the few stairs with Gibbs to where the vampire was patiently waiting on deck, as if he had all the time in the world.

"He certainly doesn't look dead," Gibbs observed loudly as he inched his way along the side of the deck, farthest from the vampire.

Eric laughed at his comment. "Please, you think one sword to the gut is going to kill me? Ha! You've got a lot to learn about killing vampires."

"Enlighten me," Elizabeth told him sarcastically, trying to buy Gibbs time to reach Thomas.

"Come now. I'm sure Madame Harriet told you how I can be killed. Beheading, stake to the heart, that type of thing. But there's a vital detail that she left out. _I_ can't be killed because I have no soul."

"No soul?" she questioned.

"That's right. I sold my soul to a dark sorceress shortly after I killed your mother. I needed the strength and power to avenge my parent's deaths and she promised to give me what I sought, but I had to sacrifice my soul. I have to say, I think she was the one cheated out of a deal."

Elizabeth was speechless. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't kill him, and if he never tired in battle, she would eventually lose. _Could he be lying?_ she wondered. _Is he really immortal without his soul?_ There was only one way to find out, but she wasn't sure she wanted to take the chance of someone getting hurt…or worse.

"Come on, I know you're curious," Eric stated. He removed something from his coat and tossed it over to her. It skidded to a stop in front of her and she picked it up, never taking her eyes off the vampire.

It was a wooden stake. He had just given her the means with which to kill him. _Is this just another ploy?_ she asked herself, turning the weapon over and over in her hands, getting a feel for it. The wood seemed to be from an ash tree. It was lightweight, but solid.

"Come on. Take your best shot," Eric invited, spreading his arms wide.

She didn't wait to be asked twice. Running forward with her sword in one hand and the stake in the other, she advanced on her adversary. The fear she saw in his eyes at her charge confirmed her thoughts that he was bluffing.

He raised his sword to defend himself, but Elizabeth was ready for it. She struck with her long-sword and blocked his lunges and swings. One goal kept running through her mind: drive the stake into his heart. Eric seemed to be struggling to keep up with her swordplay, and he moved backwards in an attempt to pull his defenses together.

Elizabeth didn't give him the opportunity. Her body was running on auto-pilot now, and with every swing and blow she could feel him becoming unsure and scared. Finally, he backed into the railing of the ship's side and was forced to stop moving. She had him now.

With one more parry, she deflected his last attempt to free himself and she drove the stake deep into his chest, directly in his heart.

He shouted in pain as she continued to push the stake deeper and deeper. Unexpectedly, his shouts turned to fits of malicious laughter. Elizabeth didn't know what was going on. He should be dead.

"Stop!" he laughed. "That tickles."

"Oh my God," she breathed, realizing that Eric had been telling her the truth the whole time. She really couldn't kill him. He didn't have a soul.

"Elizabeth, get out of there!" Gibbs shouted from the other side of the ship, where he was guarding the door to the galley. Thomas was banging on the door behind him, demanding to be let out.

His warning couldn't have helped her though. Eric grabbed her roughly by the arms and threw her backwards across the deck. She landed harshly, near the captain's cabin, her head and back hitting the wall behind her. Groaning in pain, she tried to stand, but the thumping in her head increased whenever she tried to move.

"Mrs. Turner!" Gibbs cried out again, running to stand between her and Eric. He held his short sword out in front of him, a meager defense at best against the creature before him.

Eric pulled the stake out of his chest, grimacing just for effect. "You really want to challenge me, old man?" he questioned.

"It's not a challenge. I'm protectin' those I care about," he explained, anger lacing his words.

"Gibbs, don't. He'll kill you," Elizabeth whispered, trying to get her bearings. Her whole body felt bruised.

"Yes, I probably will," Eric concurred.

"So be it," was the pirate's noble answer. He lunged forward to attack.

"Mum!" Thomas yelled from the other side of the deck as he opened the galley door. He ran over to her side, ignoring the two adults fighting in the middle of the ship. His arms were full of food, most of it rotten.

Eric saw the boy and attempted to get to him, but Gibbs wouldn't allow it. The old pirate was panting from exertion and had numerous cuts all over his body from when he was unable to block Eric's sword effectively. When Eric's back was turned, he stabbed him with the last of his energy. The vampire shouted in surprise and frustration.

"When will you people learn that spearing me won't work?" he asked, turning around so suddenly that Gibbs lost his grip on his sword and was left defenseless. Eric showed him no mercy and in one swift motion, slit his throat.

"No!" Elizabeth screamed, shielding her son's eyes from the violent scene. Blood poured out from Gibbs' neck, and he made a few gurgling sounds before dropping to his knees and slumping forward on the deck.

Eric didn't spare the fallen pirate a glance as he turned his attention back to Elizabeth and her son. Thomas dropped the food he had been clutching to hug his mother, certain that these were his final moments. A small white bulb rolled out from the pile of discarded food and came to a stop in front of Eric.

Immediately, the vampire shrank back, hissing in disgust.

_Garlic! Of course!_ Elizabeth thought to herself as she recognized the vegetable. _Vampires hate garlic._ She quickly gathered more garlic in each of her hands and held them out toward Eric, who continued to retreat, his eyes black with hatred.

"Jack!" she called out. "Is there a cell or cage of some sort that we can lock Eric in?"

"There's one below deck," Thomas supplied when the pirate didn't reply.

"Good," she said. "Now, are you going to go peacefully, or am I going to have to shove some of these down your throat?" She held up the garlic in her hands, waving them in front of his face.

He snarled at her, but didn't put up a fight as she secured him in the cell below deck. Elizabeth placed the garlic between the bars to deter him from breaking free.

"I don't understand why you can't die, but you're afraid of garlic," she mumbled as she finished up.

"Just because I can't die doesn't mean I can't be injured," he explained, ripping open his shirt. On his muscular chest was a bloody hole where she had attempted to kill him with the wooden stake. It was smaller and less deep than it had been originally, but it hadn't just disappeared. Eric had a few other superficial wounds across his chest and arms too.

His voice forced her to break off her gaze. "I won't lie. They hurt like hell, but I'm used to pain. I just ignore it. My wounds heal quickly as well. But I'm constantly nauesous when there's garlic around."

She didn't have anything more to say to him and turned to leave.

"You'll regret this," he whispered behind her, his words full of evil intent.

Elizabeth climbed the stairs to the deck, tears streaming down her face as she stared upon Gibbs' lifeless body. Jack had covered his friend's face with a coat and was kneeling beside the body, his eyes glazed over and lost in thought. Thomas stood close beside him, sniffling.

The tired and weeping young woman knelt down between her friend and son, wrapping a consoling arm around each of them. "He died with honor," she assured them.

"Aye. That he did," Jack whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"What are we going to do with the body?" Thomas asked quietly.

His mother was silent for a moment before answering, "Give him a proper burial of course."

"He would have wanted to be buried at sea," Jack stated.

"Yes. And he will get nothing less."

A few hours later, the three remaining companions watched the burning dingy float off into the sunrise, taking their longtime friend to Davy Jones' Locker.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Yes, Gibbs died and I will miss him, but he didn't die without a reason. In the next chapter we will see the return of another familiar face. Keep reading and reviewing please!


	12. Chapter 11: The Unwilling Ally

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money from this story.

* * *

**

_Author's Note: _Here's the next chapter. Some more characters come into play. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:**

_**The Unwilling Ally**_

"Gibbs? Gibbs!" a man shouted from somewhere above him.

The old man opened his eyes and looked up. "William Turner? Is that really you?" he asked, blinking up into the sun. A rope ladder was lowered over the side of _The Flying Dutchman_ and Gibbs quickly scaled the side of the ship. Will helped him over the railing.

"Wait," Gibbs said as he sat down on some spare rigging. "If I'm here with you…then I must be…"

"Dead," Will finished for him solemnly.

The confused pirate nodded but said nothing. He looked around the deck. The ship was in pristine condition, not covered in barnacles and other sea-life like it had been the last time he had been on board. Of course, the captain of the _Dutchman_ had been the infamous Davy Jones himself when he had last seen this ship. Now Will commanded the ship and issued orders as its captain.

"Gibbs, what happened?" Will asked. "How is Elizabeth? Is she alright?"

The older man snapped back to reality, suddenly in a rush to tell Will everything. "Yer wife's in terrible danger. And yer son. Jack's with 'em, but he won't be much more help than I was…"

Will cut him off, "Son? I…I have a son?"

Gibbs realized just how much Will didn't know. "Oh dear. I suppose I'll have ta start at the beginning."

Will didn't interrupt as his friend told him everything that had happened, although his expression became more and more worried and angry. The old pirate finished his tale just as the black sky began to fade to a dull gray. Will already had a plan in his mind when Gibbs stopped.

"There might be a way to stop him," he told the other pirate.

"But he can't be killed. He has no soul," Gibbs restated, thinking Will had missed that crucial piece of information.

"Yes, but what if we gave him his soul back. Then he could be killed, correct?"

Gibbs mulled it over for a moment then said, "I suppose it could work. But how exactly are we going ta do that?"

Will's face turned grim and he stood up. "We'll need Calypso's help." He was reluctant to seek aid from her, but knew she might be their only chance.

Gibbs was appalled. "Ye'd go ta that witch fer help?" disgust laced his words, but Will was already instructing his crew to change course for Calypso's isle.

After he was done issuing orders and the _Dutchman_ was underway at full-speed, he turned to Gibbs with a serious expression. "I'd go to Hell and back for my family."

"Well, ye're going awfully close by going ta that woman," he commented, then sighed and added, "But if ye're serious about doin' this, then I'm with ye 'til the end." He clapped Will on the back and then began helping the crew.

The ship's captain strode to the bow of the ship, gazing out over the water, but not really seeing anything. Waves crashed against the side of the ship as it sped through the water, faster than any vessel ever built. It was easily five times as fast as the _Black Pearl_ whenever it was sailing at full-speed. But for Will, his ship couldn't make it to Calypso's isle fast enough. He needed her help now, and the time wasted sailing to and from her isle made him even more anxious. Elizabeth and Thomas could be hurt or worse right now. Not knowing if they and Jack were okay was driving him crazy with worry.

Then a terrifying thought occurred to him, making his heart skip a beat. What if Calypso refused to help him restore Eric's soul? She had no reason to, and she was notoriously known for being selfish. Since she had been betrayed by her ex-lover, Davy Jones, she had been untrusting and did not show compassion toward men. In fact, no man was permitted to step foot on her isle and the punishment for doing so was death. Why would Will be treated any differently?

He tried to shake the thought from his mind as the lookout shouted "Land ahoy!" from the crow's nest. Calypso would help him. He would convince her somehow. Determination slowly pushed the doubt out of his mind. He couldn't fail. Elizabeth and Thomas were in desperate need of aid and he was the only person who could offer that help.

_God, I just hope they're okay,_ he thought to himself as the goddess' isle drew nearer and nearer. The sky had turned from a dull gray to a hazy orange. _Please let them be okay.

* * *

_

In the early hours of the morning the small schooner anchored in the nearest harbor where Jack was not a wanted criminal. It was a challenge to find such a place. About halfway between Port Royal and Tortuga; however, they found a safe haven.

Jack and Elizabeth agreed it would be best to rest for a while before going ashore. Thomas was already slumping against the wall in one of the ship's corners, sound asleep. Elizabeth was worried about her son.

"Do you think he'll have nightmares?" she whispered to the remaining pirate.

"Dunno. But don't worry about it. Ye go an' get yer rest. I'll keep an eye on the boy," Jack offered.

"Are you sure?"

"Course."

Sighing, she voiced her true concern. "It's just that…the last time I went to bed…"

Jack knew where she was headed and stopped her before she could continue. "Hey now. It's not gonna happen again, ye hear? That monster's all locked up. No one else is going ta die." He rubbed her arms and looked deep into her eyes to assure she was alright.

Elizabeth turned her head away so Jack wouldn't see the tears that had formed there. "I feel like this is all my fault," she said, her voice quivering with disgust and sadness.

"Don't ye dare say that," he responded sternly. "If ye start blaming yerself fer this mess, then that bastard's won. He wants ye ta feel that way."

"But…" she stammered.

"No. No 'buts'. Ye aren't responsible fer any o' this. Now go on. Go ta bed," he said, pushing her in that direction.

Elizabeth turned back to the pirate and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. Jack didn't respond at first, but then he gave her an awkward pat on the back.

"Are _you_ okay?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack was silent for a moment, and then answered honestly saying, "Not really. Gibbs was a good man and a fine pirate. He's one of the only people I've ever trusted me life with. It's hard, but I'll be fine." He pulled back from her embrace and Elizabeth saw the raw emotion in his eyes. "Now go ta bed. I'm not going ta tell ye again."

Elizabeth smiled and wiped away the tears that had leaked out onto her cheeks. Then she walked down to the captain's cabin. She went inside and disarmed herself, laying her weapons within arm's reach from the bed. She collapsed onto the lumpy, smelly mattress without undressing.

Blissful, undisturbed sleep overtook her moments after she laid her head on her pillow.

* * *

"I was told by some of my water nymphs that a man was wading in my lagoon," a calm yet powerful female voice stated. "I did not imagine that man would be you, William Turner."

Will watched as the mysterious goddess wound her way down to the edge of the lagoon, her long royal blue dress flowing about her, reminding him of crashing waves. Her hair was no longer in dreads, but unbound and wavy. It was longer than he remembered, falling over her brown skin. She wasn't smiling, but her expression was not altogether unpleasant.

"Why are you here?" she asked him in a heavy accent, crossing her hands over her chest. "Don't you have a job you should be doing?"

"I come because I am in need of your help," he told her.

Calypso barked out a laugh, but didn't respond to his proclamation. Instead she played with a strand of her hair, and then cocked her head to the side. "Do you know what happened to the last man who didn't do as I told him?" she asked in a playful voice.

There was only one man Will could think of: Davy Jones. After the _Dutchman's_ former captain had disobeyed her command to guide souls to the end of the world, she put a curse on him that transformed him and his entire crew into different aspects of sea life. Will nodded slowly.

She threw the hair she had been toying with over her shoulder and gave him a cross look. "Then the reason you are here better be extremely important. If it's not, you may end up like Davy Jones. Come with me," she ordered, gliding away to her temple in the center of the isle.

Will quickly followed her, but paused briefly when his feet were finally on firm ground. It had been seven years since he had stepped on land, and he savored the sensation. Apparently, Calypso had given him permission to come ashore. He trotted after her, entering a slightly unkempt temple.

It was still an imposing structure, with its mighty columns and high arches, and Will was careful to show his respect. Calypso was seated on a chaise couch and was being fanned by two servant girls. Her relaxed pose belied the seriousness of the situation. He knelt on one knee and bowed his head.

"Explain yourself," she demanded, "Why do you need my help? And why should I give it?"

Will cleared his throat and began to tell his story, praying that the goddess would help him in his quest. "My wife and son are being chased and tormented by a vampire. The creature has already killed one of their companions, and has come close to killing my family many times. They've attempted to kill him, but to no avail. It seems the creature has no soul, and therefore is invincible. I need to you help me restore his soul so that he can be stopped. Please…say you will help me."

A long silence filled the room after he was finished with his plea. He kept his head bent, afraid of what Calypso would say. With each passing moment, he knew he was losing time. Elizabeth couldn't run from the vampire forever, especially if she was traveling with a young boy and Jack. She couldn't fight him either since he couldn't die.

Unfortunately, Calypso was not in any mood to be generous. "I fail to see what I will gain from helping you with this problem," she said coldly. "What can you give me in exchange for my aid?"

Will should have known she would have expected some type of payment. His mind raced as he tried to come up with something, but he drew a blank. "I am already your eternal servant. I have no possessions of my own that would interest you, and you have no need of gold or other treasures. I must admit that I have nothing with which to bribe you into assisting me. You have everything that I can offer." He looked up at her, trying to gage her reaction to his confession.

To his surprise, she gave a small, satisfied smile. "Well, there is one thing that I don't have."

"And I could supply this 'thing' for you?" Will questioned, skeptically.

"Oh yes," she exclaimed happily, standing up. She waved away her servants so that they were alone. "I think you would be more than proficient at giving me what I want."

She walked forward, swaying her hips in a provocative manner. Her smile turned coy and she gazed into his eyes with such intensity that there was no doubt in his mind what 'thing' she had in mind for him.

Still, he had to be sure.

"What is it that you're suggesting?" he asked as she continued to draw closer.

"I've been a very lonely woman for a long time," she said. "I could use some…pleasurable company."

Without breaking eye contact, she skillfully undid the clasp that was holding her dress up around her neck. The water-like fabric fell to the ground, creating a puddle around her feet. Carefully, she stepped over the garment, coming to a stop in front of Will. He fixed his gaze on the ground.

"Do you not like what you see, William Turner?" she asked, forcing his chin up so that she could look him in the eyes again.

"Calypso…" he began, his tone sympathetic.

She became angry, knowing that he was about to reject her advances. "Do you want my help or not?" she asked.

He sighed. "Not if it comes at this price."

"So you would rather let them die at the hands of a vampire than sleep with me?"

"I won't stop trying to help them. I'll continue on without your help if need be…find a way to restore his soul myself," he stated.

"Just give me one night. Then I will help you," she promised.

He shook his head. "No. I won't betray Elizabeth like that."

Apparently the word 'betray' had a negative affect on the goddess' temperament. She turned away from him and snapped her fingers. The dress she had discarded rose up and refit itself to her body. "Ha! A man who won't betray. There is no such man!" She returned to sitting on her chaise.

"I would never hurt Elizabeth in any way. Just because Davy Jones betrayed you does not mean that all men are pigs," Will reasoned, standing up and advancing on her. "The wrongs done to you were horrible and unforgivable, but you can't judge every man based on the actions of one."

Calypso was silent for a moment. "Do you still love her as much as you did seven years ago?" she asked quietly her eyes staring off into the distance.

"More," he answered. "And I will love her until the day that I die."

"But you are practically immortal now. You'll live forever," she pointed out.

"Precisely."

The goddess looked into his determined gaze, searching for any hint that he was lying. But there was no sign of the sort. Reluctantly she sighed in defeat and snapped her fingers again. One of her servant girls came rushing into the temple and over to her mistress.

"What was the demon's name?" she asked Will.

"Eric. I don't know his surname."

"And you said he sold his soul to a black sorceress, did you not?"

"Yes," he replied, unsure why this was important.

Calypso whispered into her servant's ear, and then the girl exited the room and into the early morning sunrise.

"You will have three days to perform your task," Calypso began. "And that counts today. On the sunset of the third day, I will come to collect you."

"Why only three days?" Will asked cautiously, not wanting her to change her mind.

"Because, if you have not succeeded by sunset on the third day, you will be too late. Your wife and son will be lost to you forever."

"But…how do you know…"

"Do not question me," she warned. The servant girl returned, cradling a small glowing object. It seemed to be made of glass and inside was a silvery white mist. It reminded Will of a fortune teller's crystal ball.

"Now," Calypso said, handing him the delicate object. "This is what you must do…"

* * *

_Author's Note: _Well, I hope you liked Will's return. He will be doing a lot more in the next few chapters. Leave me a review so I can hear some of your reactions to what's happening. Are you liking it? Hating it? Indifferent? Thanks and keep reading.


	13. Chapter 12: The Abduction

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.**

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**Chapter Twelve:**

_**The Abduction**_

It was past noon when Elizabeth emerged from the captain's cabin. Her body felt rested and refreshed; an alien sensation to her sleep-deprived and bruised body. Jack and Thomas where on the deck, playing a game of backgammon. Her son was winning by a wide margin. She walked over to them, combing her fingers through her hair.

"Why did you let me sleep so late?" she asked the pirate, although not in an accusing tone.

"Ye looked so peaceful when I came in ta wake you. I didn't have the heart ta get ye out of bed. Ye needed the rest," he stated, concentrating on the game in front of him.

"Yes, I most certainly did. Thank you," she agreed with a smile.

"There's one more apple. We saved it for you," Thomas said, handing it to her. She accepted the fruit and sank her teeth into its flesh.

"If we mean to stay on this ship, we're going to need to buy more supplies," she commented, taking another bite of the apple. "We should probably go into town soon to find what we need."

"Can we finish our game first?" Jack asked.

She sighed into her breakfast. "I suppose so," she allowed while Thomas rolled the dice.

"Ah ha!" the boy exclaimed as he removed the last of his checkers from the board. "Game over."

Jack mumbled a curse under his breath in agitation.

"That's not showing good sportsmanship," Elizabeth chided.

"Good game, Uncle Jack," Thomas said, holding out his hand.

"Yeah, good game," the pirate grumbled, shaking the boy's hand to show he was being a good sport.

"Now, let's go shopping," Elizabeth said.

"Oh joy," was Jack's sarcastic response.

Elizabeth was apprehensive about leaving Eric locked up in the galley with no supervision but had little choice. They needed supplies and she didn't think she could rely on Jack to get everything they would need. She also didn't want to leave Jack alone with Eric, especially not after what he did to Gibbs.

Just thinking of him made her choke up. It was strange not seeing him beside her or listening to him and Jack volley insults back and forth. She had known Gibbs since she was a little girl, and in a way he had been like an uncle to her. His death struck a cord deep within her, and she wasn't sure she would recover any time soon. In an effort to comfort herself, she told herself that he was in a better place. He didn't have to run any longer; he was finally at peace. At least she hoped so.

Before they left, Elizabeth made sure Eric was secure. She added more cloves of garlic to the bars and even stuck one in the keyhole to the cell. After she was finished, she was certain that he could not escape.

The three travelers disembarked and headed for the local market. Their goal was to stock up on food, water, and clothing, but also on garlic, crucifixes, and holy water. Elizabeth and her son set out to get the items necessary for daily survival while Jack searched for the vampire repellants. They might not be able to kill Eric, but they could hold him at bay.

The town was relatively small but bustling with people. Most were middle aged women with children hanging off of their skirts, but there were also business men, young couples, slaves, merchants, and some elderly citizens walking back and forth across the square. It was noisy and crowded; Elizabeth relaxed and submerged herself in the sea of people, happy to be around normal human beings for a while.

After a few hours of intense shopping and haggling for lower prices, Elizabeth and Thomas determined that they had enough of the items necessary for survival to last them for at least a week. The sky above them was littered with dark grey clouds that blocked out the light from the sun. It looked ready to pour at any moment. They decided that they didn't want to wait for Jack, who had become lost in the crowds some time ago. Instead, they headed for the ship, determined to beat the rain.

As they walked, Thomas asked his mother if she had seen Blackbeard.

"The pirate?" she questioned, shifting her basket of supplies from one hip to the other.

"No. Blackbeard's my dog. You know...the one you said I could keep if I gave him a bath. That's his name," he explained. "I haven't seen him since the night the vampire attacked and killed Mister Gibbs."

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. Thomas had no idea his seemingly furry friend was actually a murderous vampire. She wasn't about to inform him of that minor detail either. What if he thought that it was his fault that Gibbs had died because he had insisted on keeping the animal? No, she couldn't bring herself to tell him about his pet's true form.

"Have you seen him?" Thomas repeated, looking hopeful. His mother always knew the answers to his questions.

She shook her head and stroked the top of his head with her free hand. "No, honey, I haven't seen him. Maybe he was scared of the vampire and jumped off the boat to try and get away," she suggested, knowing that it was only slightly reasonable.

But her son seemed to accept her answer. His eyes went wide with worry, and for a moment she was sorry she had said anything. He didn't need another reason to be upset right now. This whole situation had taken its toll on the seven-year-old and with Gibbs dying only the night before, he was sure to be fragile emotionally. The loss of his dog on top of everything else might cause a melt-down.

"Do you really think he did that?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, dear. It's possible. But don't give up hope," she added. "Maybe he's still somewhere around here." She didn't have the heart to tell him he would never see his dog again, and she didn't want him to be too disappointed when the animal never reappeared.

Just as they arrived at the dock, the rain started to fall. They rushed up the gangplank and made their way to the captain's cabin, where they put down their supplies. Jack wasn't back on the ship yet, but Elizabeth wasn't worried about him too much. He could take care of himself if needed, and he could talk himself out of almost any kind of situation.

"I'm going to go check on Eric," she told Thomas.

"Can I play in the rain?" he asked.

"As long as you stay on the main deck. But I don't want you to catch a chill, so you can play until I come back," she stated, making his smile dim slightly.

She made her way down to the galley as her son danced around on the deck, his head tilted back to catch the rain in his mouth. The area where Eric's cell was located was dark and dank, and the stench was nauseating.

But what really made her stomach sick was the fact that Eric was not there.

A large hole, about the size of her head, stared at her from across the room. Elizabeth rushed to the cell, unlocking the door and stepping inside. She examined the hole intently. No human could have fit through a hole that size, and it didn't even look like the hole had been made by human hands. Her breathing became ragged as she failed at remaining calm.

Suddenly, the cell door slammed shut, the lock sliding into place. Before she knew what was happening, the key to the cell was flung across the room, landing by the entrance to the galley. There was no one else in the room but her, but some unseen force seemed to be controlling the items in the room.

Then, just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, she heard a dog barking on the deck above her.

"Blackbeard! There you are!" Thomas cheered happily. She could hear him running over to the dog.

"Thomas! No!" she screamed as loud as she could. "Don't go near the dog!"

But it was too late.

Thomas' laughter changed into a scream of terror. Elizabeth couldn't see what was happening above, driving her into a frenzy. She grasped the bars of her enclosure, shaking them furiously, praying that they would give way.

Her son's screams cut off abruptly and an eerie silence was left in its wake. Elizabeth's heart stopped beating as she listened for any movement above her. No sound reached her ears.

"Thomas!" she screamed again, her voice cracking with strain. The stout steel bars wouldn't budge, no matter how hard she tried to dislodge them. Desperate to get out, she turned to the hole that Eric had escaped out of.

She clawed at the thick and splintered wood, trying to enlarge the hole. Pieces of wood cut her hands and embedded themselves into her skin. After a few minutes, her hands were bleeding and useless.

Elizabeth slumped down with her back against the wall. Tears streamed down her face and sobs racked her body. She was powerless to save her son. She had no idea what Eric had done with her son, or even if he was alive.

"Ninety-nine bottles of rum on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of rum. Take one down, pass it around. Ninety-eight bottles of rum on the wall."

Elizabeth tilted her head up at the sound of Jack's singing. She could hear his unsteady footsteps as he boarded the ship. Slowly, Elizabeth stood up, not using her hands to brace herself on the wall. Her hands were still throbbing and bloody. As the pirate walked about on deck, singing loudly and off key, she called out to him.

"Jack!" her voice was hoarse from screaming earlier, but she knew she had to get out of the cell. "Jack!" she shouted again, as loud as she possibly could.

The footsteps above her stopped. "Gibbs? That you?" he called back, his words slurred.

"No, it's Elizabeth. I need your help. Come down here," she answered loudly.

A few moments later, Jack appeared at the foot of the stairs, a nearly empty bottle of rum clutched in his left hand. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow. _He must have been drinking this whole time, _she thought. _I guess that's just his way of dealing with grief._

But she didn't have time to think about Jack's emotional problems and how he handled them. "Jack, he's taken Thomas," she told him as he swayed back and forth, taking another swig from his bottle. "We need to go out there and find them before he does anything to Thomas."

"Who took him?"

"For God's sake," she exclaimed. "Eric…the vampire," she added when he continued to appear clueless. "Get me out of this cage. The key is over there in the corner."

Jack turned his head in the direction she was pointing, but it took him several moments to find the key to the cell. It took him even longer to try and put it into the hole properly. After several failed attempts, Elizabeth grabbed the key from his hands and opened it herself. She groaned in pain from having to use her injured hands.

"Now, let's go. We don't even know where he's taken him," she said, pushing past him and walking up the stairs to the deck. He followed her at a slower pace.

The sky was black, dotted here and there with stars, the clouds from earlier that day having disappeared altogether. When Jack emerged from below deck, he seemed even more disoriented and his face held a green tint to it.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he stated, dropping the bottle and clutching his stomach. Elizabeth rushed over to him, but couldn't do anything to help except lead him over to the port railing.

He vomited several times over the side of the ship, then slumped down to the deck. A mixture of exhaustion and the effects of alcohol put him to sleep in an instant.

Elizabeth didn't know what to do. She needed to search for Thomas, but she knew it was foolish to do so alone. Jack was of no use to her in this state, and her hands were in danger of becoming infected.

After a moment of deliberation, she decided that it might be best to recover tonight and set out early the next morning. Jack would be hung-over, but at least sober. And after she tended to her hands, she might be able to touch things without cringing in pain. At this moment she wouldn't even be able to hold a sword.

She left him on the deck and retired to the captain's cabin. She washed her hands, removed as many splinters as possible, and slathered her hands in an ointment that she had purchased in town that day.

It was only after she had changed for bed that she noticed the letter pinned to her pillow.

Her heart raced as she picked up the note. It read:

_**Do not worry about Thomas. I'm taking good care of him. After all, someday soon he will be my apprentice.**_

_**Yours Truly,**_

_**Eric Sinclair**_

Elizabeth couldn't get to sleep that night because she kept worrying about the meaning of Eric's letter.

* * *

"I don't see why ye've insisted on coming back here. Yer wastin' yer time if ye ask me. And ye don't have any of that ta be wastin'. This is day two remember?" Gibbs commented as he and Will hiked up the hill to where his wife's cottage was located. "I told ya, there's nothing but rubble left."

Gibbs was right; the only thing that remained of Elizabeth's cottage was charred wood and miscellaneous items that had escaped the fire. Will caught a glimpse of something shiny amongst the debris and bent down to retrieve it. He lifted up a silver necklace. Dangling from the delicate chain was an ornate cross. Will wiped away the ash that had settled onto the silver, and then placed it around his neck. The necklace had been a gift from her father when Elizabeth was young and he was sure that she would want it back. He also found his dagger in the burnt rubble and placed the blade in his boot.

"Let's go. There's nothing here," Will said, turning around and starting back down the hill. Gibbs was still panting from the ascent.

Once they were both back on the ship they charted out a new course.

"We were about a mile from Port Royal when we were attacked. Give or take a few hundred feet. We had anchored, but I'd doubt if they are still in the same spot. They would have moved on by now," Gibbs supplied helpfully.

"Well then the question is where they went," Will said, looking over his maps.

"It's not all that difficult. Ye can eliminate most of the ports along the coast, especially the main ports."

"Why is that?"

"Cause Jack is a wanted criminal in most of 'em. Most of the charges are for piracy or theft. He wouldn't be stupid enough ta go ta one of them," Gibbs reasoned.

"Oh. Well which port do you think they're likely to dock at?" Will asked, glad to have Gibbs there with him.

His friend squinted at the maps, reading the tiny print of the different ports and mumbling to himself. After a moment of consideration, he pointed to a small port located halfway between Port Royal and Tortuga.

"My bet's on that one," Gibbs announced.

"Then that's where we'll go."

* * *

_Author's Note: _Didn't see that coming did you? Well, actually, you probably did. I'm not very good at the creating suspense thing, but I'm trying. Tell me what you thought. I hope you liked it.


	14. Chapter 13: The Search

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.**

_Author's Note: _Just wanted to warn you that the next few chapters are going to be pretty long. Well, I think they are. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:  
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**_**The Search**_

The rough waters of the open ocean violently tossed _The_ _Flying Dutchman _to and fro, threatening to capsize the vessel. Nearly all of the men had been ordered to go below deck to seek shelter from the massive storm of hurricane proportions. Will had ordered the youngest members of the crew to be tied to a wall of the ship so they wouldn't be injured or tossed about.

Captain Turner, Gibbs, and a few of the _Dutchman's_ strongest and bravest sailors where above deck, trying to keep the ship afloat. They had already lowered the sails and dropped anchor in an effort to stabilize the ship. Their efforts did little to help and they were quickly losing hope.

"I don't get it," Gibbs yelled over the roar of the storm to Will. "This gale seems ta have come out o' no where. She completely blindsided us. And she don't show signs of stoppin' any time soon."

Will was fighting with the wheel. "This storm isn't an unhappy coincidence. It's Calypso's doing," he said, his voice straining with the effort to keep the wheel from spinning out of control. His arms shook with effort.

"Why would she do that?" Gibbs asked. "She gave ya permission ta go ashore and help yer family."

"But she never said she would make it easy. She's trying to stop me, to test how hard I'm willing to try to save them."

A bolt of lighting struck the main mast, as if to agree with his statement. The top of the mast splintered and fell to the deck in many pieces; some of the bigger chunks were on fire. Gibbs and two other men raced to put out the blazes before the whole ship was engulfed.

Will was starting to get frustrated and angry. But instead of being mad at the troublesome goddess for creating the storm, he found that he was upset with himself. He knew that he should be able to steer through the storm and get to his destination. He was an experienced seaman and had sailed through many storms in his journeys. There was no reason he shouldn't be able to conquer this storm as well.

If this had been any other day, Will would have been patient and ridden out the storm. He would have been content to just sit and wait for the winds to die down and the rain to lessen. It was better than risking the lives of his crew.

But today was different.

Darkness had descended around them, signifying the end of his second day on his mission to save Elizabeth and Thomas; he only had one remaining. The storm was delaying him even further. For every gust of wind that pushed the boat back, he lost precious moments to search for his family. He felt powerless, something he had rarely felt in his life, and the feeling was unwelcome.

"The port's getting' farther away," Gibbs yelled as he stumbled up the stairs. Will stood silent, already knowing this information.

The waves continued to push the _Dutchman_ in the opposite direction of their destination. Will could see that even the few experienced and strong members of the crew were beginning to tire. He could see in their faces that they wanted to give up, but they were too loyal to voice their complaints and concerns. Will felt horribly selfish for ordering that they fight through the storm. This was a personal battle that he never should have involved them in.

"What's the order captain?" his first mate, his father, asked, all eyes turning to him with hopeful stares.

Water swamped the deck, forcing the sailors to cling to the rigging of the ship to avoid being pulled overboard. Will had hoped that the storm would have run its course by now, but it was still going strong and showed no signs of stopping. He knew that his crew couldn't hold out much longer, and he wasn't going to ask them to continue to fight a losing battle.

"Everyone is to go below deck. We'll have to wait it out," he conceded.

"But Will," Gibbs began as the rest of the crew headed to the ship's hold. "Ye've only got one more day…"

Will wasn't listening. He knew what was at stake; how much he would lose if he failed. He wasn't going to give up, but he wasn't going to sacrifice the lives and respect of his crew either.

"Calypso!" he shouted in frustration as he fought with the wheel to maintain control.

Another wave crashed over the side of the ship, flooding the deck. As the water receded, the goddess was revealed, standing in the middle of the deck, her hands on her hips and her nose in the air. Will wasn't sure if she was angry that he had summoned her or if there was another reason for her ire.

Gibbs took the wheel from Will's hands, staring in disbelief at the goddess. Will managed to reach the deck without falling on his face—which was quite an accomplishment given that the boat was swaying so violently that crates and spare rigging were sliding from one side of the ship to the other with every wave. Calypso was standing in front of him as if the sea was calm and the sky was sunny. In fact, the rain didn't even seem to land on her.

Calypso opened her mouth to speak, but Will didn't give her the opportunity. "Why did you send a storm? I thought you agreed to help me! Do your promises mean nothing to you?"

"I sent the storm because you did not comply with my rule," she stated coldly.

"What rule?" he questioned incredulously.

"This was a journey only you were supposed to make. Only you are allowed to go ashore to find Elizabeth and Thomas. No one else."

"You never told me this rule," he countered. "I wouldn't have disobeyed your command and jeopardized my mission. I wouldn't incur your wrath when I need your cooperation. Please, let me continue with my journey. Alone." He emphasized the last word.

She considered him for a moment, and then nodded. "I don't know why I am being so generous to you, William Turner. I do not know if you deserve such treatment. After all, you are a man, and I despise men. But…on the other hand, you are different from other men."

"How so?" he inquired.

"For one, you have not betrayed me, or your wife, and I respect that. You have served me well for seven years…unlike others. And for another, you have an air of greatness about you. You are destined to do great things. I can see this."

There was a long silence after her last comment. Will was waiting for her to leave and call off the storm that was still shaking the ship, but the goddess just stood there, staring off into the distance like she was in deep thought.

"Well," she said finally. "I suppose I don't need to stay here. Don't forget that I will come to collect you at sunset, victorious or not. Good luck."

"What about the storm?" he asked before she could leave.

"It will blow over by dawn. You can sail at first light."

"But I thought you were going to end it!"

"I can't just make a huge storm like this disappear. Do you know how much hatred and anger I put into this storm? I am only a lesser goddess of the sea. I cannot halt a storm like this at will. You will have to wait it out. But I promise, before the sun rises you will reach land."

She was gone before he could tell her that he didn't have time to wait out the storm. Elizabeth and his son needed him now. He was worried sick about them.

Although all he wanted to do was jump in one of the lifeboats and row to shore at that moment, he stopped himself—knowing that it was better to wait a few hours and reach shore alive than try and be a hero and end up dying because of a rash decision.

Will prepared his lifeboat with the few supplies he needed and then stood at the helm of the ship, watching the horizon for the first sign of daylight and praying that the storm would end soon.

* * *

"Wake up Jack," Elizabeth said, shaking her friend by the shoulder. He grumbled in response and tried to push her hand away. She continued to shake him until he opened his eyes.

"Erm…" he whined, "Why ye shinin' that light in me eyes?"

"That would be the sun, Jack," she told him flatly.

"Oh," he replied, blinking at the brightness. He stood up slowly and dusted himself off, adjusting the hat on his head until it was tilted in precisely the right way. Elizabeth watched his progress out of the corner of her eye while she strapped on her boots and weapons. Her hands screamed at being used and Elizabeth winced in reaction. Jack was standing stably now, peering at her through sober eyes.

"What happened to yer hands?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," she replied in place of an answer. Her tone suggested that he not pursue the matter. All she wanted to do was start looking for Thomas. "We need to leave now."

"Why?"

"I'll explain as we walk. Now come on."

"What about Tom?" he asked, following her down the gangplank. "Shouldn't we fetch him before we leave?"

"Don't you remember anything from last night?" she questioned, incredulous.

He gave her a sheepish grin. "Not really."

"Eric took him last night and locked me in his cell. I tried to get out but couldn't. You finally showed up and let me out, then proceeded to throw up over the side of ship before passing out. It's already midday and the more time we waste the less likely it is that we will ever find my son. Maybe if you hadn't been so intoxicated last night, you would remember!" she shouted for emphasis.

He was quiet for a few minutes, letting her anger subside. "I see…" he stated finally as they walked into town. "So where should we start looking?"

She sighed in contemplation. "I don't know. Where would you hide if you were a vampire?"

He thought about it for a moment as they continued through town. The main square was bustling with all types of people and vendors, forcing them to push their way through. "Well, if I was a creature that thrived on darkness and disguise…I'd be some place where the sun don't shine and there aren't many people about. Ye know, so I wouldn't be bothered."

"But if you wanted to blend in, wouldn't you want to be where there are a lot of people?" she asked after he had finished.

"It's possible. I'm not exactly an expert here," Jack reminded her.

The sun was being blocked by large grey rain clouds and in the distance they could here the rumbling of thunder. The rainy season was definitely upon them.

"We don't have time to sit here and think this through. We have to find Thomas now." She was beginning to panic. The town was relatively small, but spread out over miles and miles of farmland and forests, except for the square in the center of the village. It could take them days to search everywhere and by then it may be too late.

"Maybe we should split up," Jack suggested as raindrops began to dot the path in front of them and the crowds in the square stepped into the closest building to avoid the coming storm; it seemed as if it were going to be a bad one.

Elizabeth didn't know what to say about Jack's suggestion. It wasn't her ideal plan, but then their situation was hardly ideal. To make matters worse, the storm was already picking up, which would make it more difficult to search along the outskirts of the forests. Jack's suggestion was starting to become more appealing. If they split up, they could cover more ground faster and possibly find Thomas before Eric did anything to him.

On the other hand, she was still worried about being caught unaware by their enemy, or being powerless to stop him if and when they did find him.

_Then again,_ she reasoned, _we're pretty powerless to stop him anyway since he can't be killed._

And she certainly didn't want Jack to end up in Eric's clutches. She wasn't about to lose another friend to the evil creature. Still, splitting up would give them more opportunities to find Thomas.

"Alright," she said reluctantly, "We'll split up."

* * *

The rain was unrelenting and continuously pelted Elizabeth's body with cold water. Because she was located so close to the equator the temperature had dropped dramatically when the sun had gone down approximately six hours ago. Now, in the early hours of the morning, when the sun had not yet begun its ascent, she was beginning to wish she had worn more layers. Her teeth were chattering and goose bumps had erupted all over her body. Her clothes were soaked through and she was chilled to the bone. In fact, she was shaking from the cold to the point that it took twice the effort to continue walking forward.

Anyone who had a home to go to was probably asleep in their warm, dry beds. But Elizabeth was outside in the wretched storm, frantically searching for her son. She was well outside of the city limits now, and the farther she went the fewer cottages and houses she saw. In the blackness that surrounded her, the trees took on a life of their own. Their branches moved like arms and their leaves seemed to be reaching out for her.

She knew that being alone in the dark with Eric on the loose was hardly a good idea. The small lantern that she had with her did little to help her see what was hiding in the darkness. Her paranoia of being caught off-guard by her enemy grew with every step she took away from civilization and she jumped at every rustling in the woods around her.

Abruptly the tree line ended and she was left in the middle of a clearing with what appeared to be unused farmland all around her. The ground hadn't been tilled for many years and weeds and other wildflowers covered the ground. The grass was slick from the rain, and muddy puddles dotted the plain.

With each footfall Elizabeth's hope of finding her son alive and well evaporated. She knew Eric could be anywhere by now, although she had a hunch that he would stay close, if only to torture her. It felt as if she was tracking a ghost.

A sudden, earth-shattering wail broke through the eerie silence of the largely uninhabited area. It startled Elizabeth so much that she lost her footing on the slippery grass and fell to the ground, landing in a large mud puddle. Her heart was hammering in her ears and she could feel the blast of adrenaline coursing through her body, putting all of her senses on high alert.

As the first wail died away, another scream followed. But the second scream was not coming from the same source. Its pitch was higher and shrill. Most terrifying of all was that the horrified cry was getting louder and louder; it was headed straight for her.

Elizabeth rose to her knees, prepared for any situation. She had just adopted this stance when a little girl about the same age as Thomas came barreling down the grassy slope. The child was still screaming, her arms held out in front of her as if by doing so she would put more distance between her and the thing that was frightening her. Nothing followed her down the path, and the only screaming was her own. Her head was turned so that she could see if there was something following her.

As a result, she ran directly into Elizabeth. The collision sent them toppling in opposite directions, but Elizabeth steadied herself and immediately went to pick up the fallen child. All of the air had been knocked out of the girl when she had bumped into Elizabeth, yet when the tall, drenched woman tried to pick her up, she found enough air to shout again.

"Hush," Elizabeth said, promptly covering the girl's mouth. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The child's frightened eyes dimmed a little and her struggles ceased. Elizabeth removed her hand and set the child on her feet. "Are you okay? What was chasing you?" she asked.

The little girl was silent for a moment. "No one's chasin' me ma'am."

"Then why are you so afraid?"

"The ghostie got someone again. Didn't you hear the screaming?"

Elizabeth's mind immediately jumped on the possibility that the 'ghostie' could be Eric and that her son was the one screaming. "What did the ghost look like? Did you see who he caught?" she asked.

The little girl shook her head, tears coming to her eyes again. "I was going to town and when I walked past the empty house I heard screamin'. They say that house is haunted. As soon as the screamin' started, something hit the back of my head. I took off runnin', I was so scared."

Her motherly side wanted to ask what in the world she was doing walking all the way to the town square in the early hours of the morning alone, but she bit her tongue. She didn't need to know. Thomas might be nearby, and if it had been him screaming, he was obviously in immediate danger.

"Where is this house?" Elizabeth asked.

"Over the top of that hill. It's big and scary. You can't miss it…" The child's eyes turned fearful, "You're not thinking of going there, are you ma'am?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," she assured the little girl.

"But the ghostie will get you!"

"Not if I get him first," she said to herself with a small smile. When the child appeared confused Elizabeth quickly changed the topic. "May I ask you to do a favor for me? I need help and you may be my only hope now. Will you do something for me?"

The girl bobbed her head in agreement.

"Good." Elizabeth removed her locket from around her neck and placed it in the girl's hand. "Now, mind you, this is very important. I need you to take this and a message to a friend of mind. Do you think you can do that?"

Another head bob.

"Take this to a man named Jack Sparrow. Tell him Elizabeth Turner sent you and give him the locket as proof. Then tell him I urgently need his help and tell him where the ghostie's house is."

"What does this Jack Sparrow look like, ma'am?"

"He looks like a pirate," she began.

The girl gasped. "But pirates are dangerous! They only come here to kill and pillage."

"Mr. Sparrow is different. He won't hurt you. I promise," Elizabeth replied, trying to reassure her. There was hesitance in the child's eyes, but she didn't go back on her offer to help. "Pirates don't come around here often, do they?"

The girl shook her head.

"Then you should have no trouble finding Jack Sparrow. If anyone looks like a pirate, it's him."

After the girl had repeated her mission a few times to make sure she had it right, Elizabeth relit the lantern and turned the girl loose. She watched the light from the lantern sway back and forth in the night, her last hope for help soon getting dimmer and dimmer.

Just as the light blinked out altogether, another wail sounded from behind her. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Thomas. Turning around, she sprinted up the slippery hill. The house the child described stood at the bottom of a valley, its appearance dark and brooding.

It was unlike any of the houses in the village, which were mostly modest, four room, homes that were relatively small. This structure stood two stories high and was easily double the size of the homes in town.

The glass windows of the second story seemed to be glaring at her, and Elizabeth couldn't help looking up at them as she approached the house. When she was less than one hundred yards away from the front door, her foot came into contact with something on the ground.

Looking down she saw a shoe, most likely the same shoe that had hit the little girl and sent her running. Gently, Elizabeth picked it up, turning it over in her hands and squinting to try and identify the shoe in the darkness. After a moment, she recognized it as Thomas' shoe.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach and the world began to spin around her. Another hysterical scream reached her ears. The sound tortured her soul; the last time she could remember feeling this way was the day Will had been taken from her. She would not allow her son to be taken from her too.

She lost her grip on the shoe, which fell to the ground unceremoniously. Elizabeth's body could hardly keep up with the jumbled commands her mind was sending. Her feet stumbled and slipped as she took off toward the front door. The sword she was trying to draw from its sheath slipped in her wet hands, nearly falling to the ground, but she managed to hold on. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might explode and the adrenaline pumping through her veins made her feel as if she were walking on air. She couldn't feel anything; not the sopping ground beneath her feet, nor the rain falling on her skin, nor the weight of the sword in her hand.

The only thing she could feel was the erratic beat of her heart mixed with a numb anguish that engulfed her body. Every step she took was purely automated. At this point she couldn't even think.

When she reached the door a few seconds later, something stopped her from just kicking the door down like she wanted to. She paused with her hand on the door handle, took a deep breath and then turned the knob as silently as she could.

Inside, the house was deathly quiet. The scream had been silenced, and the lack of noise put her mind and body on edge. She felt like a compressed spring, ready to jump at the first creak in the floorboards. The house was pitch black, but her eyes were so used to the darkness that she found she could see at least a few feet in front of her. Still objects seemed to jump out at her from all angles.

Trying to regulate her breathing, Elizabeth crept toward the stairs in front of her. She had an instinctive feeling that if her son was here, he was going to be on the upper floor.

When her foot pressed on the first step, a loud squeak echoed off the walls. She had to force herself not to flinch and move, possibly creating more noise. Quickly she weighed her options. One, she could sprint up the stairs, or two, she could pray that the other steps weren't as squeaky and she could progress slowly.

Whimpering coming from the floor above her helped her make her decision. With her sword held in front of her, she took the rest of the stairs two at a time. When she made it to the second floor landing, she turned left and walked down a hallway, following the whimpering. Except for the door at the end of the hallway, all of the doors were closed. She knew that she had to proceed with caution. She could feel the trap waiting for her.

She reached the door, but did not enter the room. Thomas could be heard, softly crying and mumbling in the room. It took all of her self-control to keep herself from running to her son's side. With her back against the doorway and her head titled to look in the room, she scanned the area for possible threats. From what she could see, no entity besides her son was in the room.

Thomas was being held captive in a metal cage—much like an animal would be stored. He didn't seem to be injured, but he was obviously scared. His clothes were dry and she could make out trays of uneaten food around the outside of his cage, indicating that he had been here for some time, probably since the day he had been taken. At least Eric had been giving him food, but Thomas apparently hadn't eaten a bite of it. If he thought anything like his mother, he would have assumed that it was poisoned. Elizabeth let herself smile over his intelligence.

After one last glance around the room, Elizabeth entered and immediately went to Thomas' cage. A large padlock was keeping the prison shut. Elizabeth laid down her sword and started to work on the lock, using a small paring knife that she kept in her boot.

"Mum!" Thomas exclaimed as he looked up into her face. His eyes had lost their normal luster, and it seemed as if he had been crying for some time.

Elizabeth paused in her rescue efforts for a moment to reach through the bars and caress her son's face. "It's okay honey. I'm going to get you out of here right now. Are you hurt?"

"No. Mum, you have to get out of here! Eric is…"

"Behind you," came a malicious voice full of triumphant laughter.

She didn't even have enough time to gasp before she was hit over the back of the head with a blunt object and the world went dark around her.


	15. Chapter 14: The Rescue

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Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen:

_**The Rescue**_

Except for the baker's shop—which was already baking breads and pastries—the town was peacefully silent. The only people walking down the deserted streets were a couple drunks who had left the pub a few hours ago, two prostitutes who hadn't found any decent business that night, and a lone pirate desperately searching for his family.

The sun had just begun to peek over the rim of the hill, turning the dark clouds a lighter shade of gray. Will's time was running out rapidly and he was at an impasse. When he had reached the docks of the village, he had found Jack's schooner, but there was no one on board. There was only a note, indicating that his son was going to become Eric Sinclair's apprentice. Combined with Calypso's unfavorable timeframe, Will had a feeling that this would be happening sooner rather than later.

But now he had no other leads to go on. He had found the right town, but he had no clues as to where Elizabeth and Thomas had been taken to, or if they were even together. Jack had disappeared as well. At the moment Will was roaming around the town aimlessly, hoping for a sign of some sort that would point him in the right direction.

All of a sudden a young girl came running down the street, one of her hands tightly clutching something. She stopped in the middle of the square, looking around her at the people on the streets. Abruptly she seemed to make up her mind and ran over to one of the drunks, yanking on the bottom of his coat. Will began to walk towards the young girl, preparing to coax her away from the haggard man. She shouldn't be around someone who wasn't in their right state of mind and could possibly harm her.

The question that he heard her ask the man made him come to a complete stop.

"Are you Jack Sparrow?" she asked the big, burly man with a five o'clock shadow and who stank so badly that Will could smell him ten feet away.

"No," the man grunted. "What's that cha' got there?" he asked, pointing at the object in her hand. He made a move to grab it, but Will stepped in.

"Excuse me sir. My niece seems to have gotten away from me again. I need to keep a better eye on her," he said as he dragged the little girl away under some protest from her. Will didn't bother to listen to the man's response.

"You're not my uncle," the little girl said in an accusing tone.

"Shh…" he said, putting a finger to his lips then pointing back at the drunk man with a meaningful look. Whether she understood his hint to be quiet or if she just decided to stop fighting he didn't know, but he was glad that she stopped trying to fight him from taking her across the street.

She looked exhausted and drained. His heart went out to her. They found a wooden bench and Will placed her on the seat then crouched down to be at eye level with her. Before he could question her about what she was doing looking for Jack Sparrow, she asked him the same question she had asked the drunk.

"Are you Jack Sparrow? You look like a pirate…although you don't look exactly like she told me."

"Who told you what Jack Sparrow looked like?"

She gave him a cross look. "I asked you first."

He sighed. "What if I told you I am a friend of Jack's? Would you believe me?"

"Maybe…" she said hesitantly. "You do look a lot like the man in the drawing."

"What drawing?" Will asked.

The little girl opened her white-knuckled hand, revealing a gold, heart-shaped locket. She snapped it open to show him the drawings inside of it. There was a portrait of Will on one side and a portrait of a young boy, undoubtedly Thomas, on the other side. This locket belonged to his wife.

"She never said I couldn't open it. I was curious," the child explained.

"Where did you get this?" he asked more harshly then he had intended. The little girl flinched as a reaction and snapped the locket shut, holding it close to her chest in order to protect it.

"A woman by the name of Elizabeth Turner gave it to me. She told me I was suppose' to give it to Jack Sparrow, the pirate. But I guess I could give it to you. What's your name?"

"William Turner. I'm the lady's husband," he explained, lifting the locket from her open palm. "Where is my wife?"

The little girl's eyes became fearful. "She went to the ghostie's house. I told her not to, but she wouldn't listen. I told her that the ghostie caught someone, but she said that everything was going to be okay."

"Calm down, sweetie. Can you tell me where this house is?"

She bobbed her head and pointed to the west. "You have to go to the edge of the forest. It's probably ten miles from here. There's a big hill in the middle of a clearing. You climb the hill and then down in the valley is the ghostie's house. You can't miss it. It's big and scary."

"Thank you…" Will said, standing up. "Can you get home from here without talking to any other strangers?"

She nodded again, and said, "Yes. I only have to go to the baker's. My mother sends me every Sunday morning so we can have fresh bread for Sunday dinner. It takes me a while to walk." Will didn't want to stay and listen to her rambling, but did so to make sure the little girl was okay. When she stopped he turned to leave.

"Thank you again. You don't know how much you have helped me."

She asked him one last question. "Do you think that Miss Elizabeth will be mad at me because I found you instead of Jack Sparrow?"

He smiled. "No. She won't be mad. Don't worry about it. You did the right thing. But if you do see Jack, you can tell him too." Will didn't think that she would run into the pirate once the town woke up and people started milling about. "Goodbye, little miss."

"Goodbye William Turner."

* * *

"Uhhh……" Elizabeth groaned weakly. Her head felt like it was splitting in two; an acute pain accompanied every throb which was followed by a blinding white light behind her eyes. She tried to raise her hands up to her head in an attempt to squeeze it back together, but her hands were bound tightly behind her. Her feet were also attached to the uncomfortable wooden chair she was sitting in with rope.

She groaned again as she slowly opened her eyes, one at a time. The room was mainly dark, but here and there were streaks of sunlight that had escaped the black curtains Eric had put up on the only window to keep it out. She wasn't in the same room she had been in when she had found Thomas. The air in the room was cold and damp, and the floor was made of packed dirt. She was in a perseve cellar of some sort.

In the corner was another cage. Thomas was inside, curled up into a ball trying to keep himself warm. Elizabeth was freezing; the only thing that prevented her teeth from chattering was the horrendous headache she currently had. Still, her flesh had erupted in goosebumps and she was shivering almost uncontrollably in her wet clothes. Little white clouds came out of her mouth every time she breathed.

Looking at Thomas more closely, she noticed that he wasn't awake, but he also wasn't sleeping. He was unconscious. Before she could call out to her son, a voice came from behind her.

"Glad to see you're awake," Eric stated, swooping around the chair to stand in front of her. "I thought I might have done some serious damage," he added, holding up a large block of wood, presumably the object he had hit her with. "You were out most of the day." His smug smile told her he wasn't at all concerned for her well-being.

"I thought it was your intention to kill me. Isn't that what you've wanted all along? To kill me so you can avenge the deaths of your parents?" Her voice was hoarse and her throat was dry, causing her words to come out in a raspy whisper.

Eric chuckled as he paced in front of her. Then he bent down to look her in the eyes, placing each of his hands on an arm of the chair. Elizabeth could see his pointed teeth gleaming in the semi-darkness.

"You will die, my dear. Have no doubt of that."

"Then why not kill me now?" she questioned. "Leave Thomas out of this. He's just a boy," she added, casting a worried glance to her son, who hadn't moved at all.

"But your son is critical in my plans for revenge. You see, I won't be the one killing you…he will."

Elizabeth gasped, her eyes darting back and forth at this surprising news. She looked at Eric in disbelief then in outrage. The vampire sneered at her again and stood up, pacing.

"My son would never harm me," she exclaimed, confident that Thomas would agree with her statement. "How do you plan on having him kill me if he won't do it?"

Eric sighed heavily. "Don't you remember the note I left you? Your son is going to become my apprentice. Meaning, I'm going to turn him into a vampire."

"No," she said softly, the word coming out as a large breath of air being expelled from her body. She wouldn't believe what Eric was telling her.

"Yes," the evil creature in front of her corrected gently. "And you see, when a new vampire is created, their first instinct is to feed. They go into a type of trance and will attack any living thing with blood in their veins, be they beast, human…or mother. It doesn't matter; he will not realize what he has done for quite some time."

Elizabeth was speechless and in denial.

"Don't worry, it won't be too painful. Not the actual act of killing you. Besides, just by the look of you now, you're already halfway dead," he commented as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her face with the tip of his claw-like nail. Elizabeth could feel it leave a line of blood across her face.

"No, I think what you will find most horrifying and torturous is seeing your son being turned into a monster. It's a very painful process. Trust me…I know."

Angry tears had formed in her eyes; she was seething with hatred, but at the same time she was going out of her mind with worry for her son. "I don't understand why you are going to all this trouble to get back at my father for ordering your parents' deaths. You already killed my mother! And my father is dead! Why must you continue to pursue this?"

"If your father had only ordered the murders of my family, I would have been content to just see him suffer. But it's the reason behind my parent's slaughter that I'm eliminating every trace of your family."

"I'm sure my father had a good reason…" Elizabeth countered, but she honestly couldn't think of any such reason. From what she had seen and gathered, Eric's parents had been good, honest people, who hadn't deserved to be murdered in the manner they were.

Eric was visibly upset at this point. He was pacing so fast that Elizabeth couldn't blink without him crossing the room. His fists were clenched at his sides and his pupils had doubled in size, making his eyes look completely black. Finally he stopped, and then pivoted to turn in her direction. In his eyes she saw a burning hatred so intense that she couldn't look at him directly for more than a moment at a time. The rage in his eyes had obviously been festering for a very long time, growing and growing until he was completely consumed by it.

"My parents were killed because of your father's arrogance and selfish desires for power! He refused to acknowledge that he made mistakes. He felt that he was above everyone else!"

"What are you talking about?" Elizabeth all but shouted, trying to break in.

"Your father used my mother to satisfy his lust, and then he threw her out when he was through with her, just like you would toss a bare bone to a dog after you had stripped it of all the meat. When she told him she was pregnant, he dismissed her, saying she was a whore. He denied the possibility that he had a bastard child!"

"What? No!" she gasped, shaking her head in disbelief. Her father couldn't have been so heartless and uncaring.

Eric seemed to be getting immense satisfaction by telling her how awful her father was as a human being. "My mother threatened to expose him for the scum that he was, and when your father found out he made plans to silence her," he continued, rushing to tell her the whole story. "He ordered my parents murdered, claiming that they were unholy demons. Vampires. No one questioned him because he was the governor."

"That can't be true…" Elizabeth stammered. "My father would never have abused a woman. And he certainly wouldn't turn her out when she was pregnant with his child."

"Of course he would. He couldn't tarnish his spotless record, not to mention embarrass his new wife by having some woman claim that he already had an illegitimate child! He was only concerned about his political agenda. He couldn't afford to have bastard children running about, claiming he was their father. So he dealt with the problem. The only thing he didn't predict was what would happen if the child in question escaped the slaughter. But…" he paused, standing up straight, as if he were extremely proud, "…here I am."

Again Elizabeth was at a loss for words. Information was swimming about in her mind, and she was trying to make sense of it all. At last she came to an unsettling conclusion. "If you _are_ telling the truth…then…you're my half-brother…"

"Indeed."

* * *

The sun had already begun its rapid descent, but Will felt like he was on the right track now. He had followed the little girl's directions to reach the 'ghostie's house'; he stood at the top of the hill, looking down at the only house in the valley, undoubtedly the house he was looking for.

Pausing only for a breath, he took off down the hill at a controlled trot while trying to come up with some type of game plan. It was unwise to just charge into the house with his sword drawn. He hardly knew anything about his enemy, and that made the vampire extremely dangerous and gave him an edge that Will couldn't match.

When he reached the bottom of the hill, he found a small shoe. He didn't know whose it was, but he knew it was out of place. People hardly discarded relatively new shoes so carelessly. The fact that there was only one shoe also added to his conviction that the shoe he held in his hand had once been on the foot of his son, Thomas.

He gazed up at the house, knowing that he had to act fast if he wanted to save his family.

* * *

"Mum?" a groggy Thomas asked, breaking the silence that had ensued after Elizabeth came to the disturbing realization that Eric was her half-brother.

Eric gave Elizabeth another evil smile. "Enough talking. It's time for this to be finished."

With that Eric strode over to the cage, unlocked it, and swung the door open. Then he proceeded to tear Thomas—who was still not fully conscious and responsive—out from the cage by the back of his shirt, holding him up in the air momentarily, the child's feet dangling above the ground.

"I suppose this would be the best time for you to say your goodbyes," the vampire stated.

"No! Please don't do this!" was all Elizabeth could say as she attempted to fight the bonds that were holding her back.

"Mum? What's going on? Get off of me!" Thomas said as he tried to feebly kick the vampire in the side. His mother was powerless to help him. The ropes preventing her from leaving the chair were too tight. She twisted and squirmed with all her strength to try and break free, but all she got for her efforts were rope burns on her wrists and ankles. The ropes didn't give way remotely.

Believing that he had given them a generous opportunity and amount of time to say their farewells, Eric lowered Thomas to the ground, still clutching his shirt. He crouched down, tilting her son's head to the side with one hand and pulling at the collar of his shirt with the other, exposing the tender skin on his neck.

"For the record," he said, pausing in his actions, "I hope this hurts you more than it hurts him." He stared directly at Elizabeth with his raven colored eyes when he made this statement.

In another second, his fangs were deeply embedded in her son's neck. Thomas screamed in pain and surprise, wiggling to try and get free but to no avail. After a few seconds her son's body went limp in Eric's arms, but the screaming didn't stop. Elizabeth didn't realize that she was the one shouting, or that what she was shouting was one syllable: Will.

* * *

The screaming caught him so off guard that Will jumped, dropping the shoe to the ground and almost losing his sword. Any thought of waiting to come up with a plan vanished and he ran for the front door. As he broke through the wooden door, debris flying left and right, his wife's desperate cries turned into strangled screams of terror filled with pain.

It didn't take him more than a moment to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from, but it did take him a few precious seconds to find the staircase to the perseve cellar. Elizabeth's screams were getting weaker, becoming moans of agony instead of shrill screams. Will flew down the stairs, and then kicked the door in.

The scene that greeted his eyes was grisly and terrifying. His wife was tied to a chair and Thomas was practically on top of her, biting her neck. Blood poured out of the wounds his teeth made, and all of the color had drained from her face. Eric was standing over the pair, encouraging his son to 'bleed her dry.' The tall and muscular creature looked up when Will entered the room so forcefully.

With a roar, Will charged forward, sword held high in his hand. First, he tore Thomas off of his wife, throwing him through the air. The boy turned demon crashed against the wall and fell to the ground with a thud, but he wouldn't stay that way long. Eric was already advancing on Will, although he didn't have any weapons in hand. Still, he had other attributes that he could use to overwhelm Will in battle.

In less than a split second, Eric was in front of Will, nails and teeth at the ready. Naturally Will's first instinct was to ram his sword deep into the vampire's gut, which he did, but it had no effect on the monster at all. Left helpless, Will tried to back away from the vampire, but only ran himself into a corner at the far end of the room. Eric followed, ripping the sword out of himself and tossing it to the ground. He approached Will and, although the pirate tried to block the vampire's attack, wrapped his powerful hands around his neck.

Will knew that the vampire could just squeeze and snap his neck, he could feel the power oozing out of the creature's clammy hands, but for some reason Eric resisted.

"I know you…" he hissed, seeming to look at Will closely for the first time. "You're Elizabeth's husband, William. I had hoped that you would come home a few years from now only to find out that your wife was dead and your son was a creature of the night, but killing you now will be equally as satisfying I think. But first, you can watch the last bit of blood be drained from your beloved."

Thomas was back on his feet and scurrying to get back to Elizabeth. His wife groaned, rolling her head from side to side. Thomas was practically drooling as he prepared to bite his mother a second time. Elizabeth didn't look like she could withstand another bite from her son.

As Will was gulping for air, he caught a whiff of something unusual. It smelled like burning flesh. He looked at Eric and saw the pain reflected in his eyes. A streak of sun was hitting his cheek, and the flesh was rapidly deteriorating from the area, leaving a gaping hole. Also, the hand wrapped around Will's throat was shaking violently and was smoking. With a roar of pain, Eric released Will, who fell to the ground. He looked up in time to see the outline of a cross deeply burned into Eric's palm.

Will's hand went to his throat where he felt the cool silver of the necklace he had found in the rubble of his wife's cottage. The cross dangled from the end of the chain, hidden by the light fabric of his shirt.

Will stood up and looked around for a weapon. Eric was already recovering and was coming at him again with the intent to kill him quickly. Eric avoided the sunlight as he approached. Turning his back on his enemy, Will saw the black curtain that was blocking out the sun hanging from the window. He reached for it, but the vampire grabbed him from behind, his sharp nails digging into his neck and shoulders, yanking him back. Will stretched out his arm for the heavy fabric. He was only a few inches away. If he could just reach it…

Elizabeth let out another soft scream as Thomas bit into her neck again. Will pushed past his pain and grabbed the edge of the curtain, tearing it from the window.

A burst of light entered the room, hitting Eric directly in the face. Immediately he released his hold on Will and retreated, covering his face with his hands. Will caught a whiff of burning flesh, but didn't care what was happening to his enemy; he quickly crossed the room and grabbed hold of his son. Not stopping there, he threw him in the cage in a corner of the room and locked him inside. Thomas tried to bite his father during the process, but Will had been holding him by the collar and the lip of his pants so that he could prevent this from happening.

Now Eric was the one moaning in pain. He was huddled in the corner, trying to cover himself with his cloak in an attempt to ward off the sun that now filled the room except for the corner Thomas' cage was in. Although Will wanted nothing more than to rush to Elizabeth's side and make sure she was still alive, he decided to finish his job first.

He walked over to Eric, then removed the swirling ball, which was carefully wrapped with layers of cloth to prevent damage, and held it out in front of the vampire. Inside, white wisps of misty-air floated around, creating intricate patterns. It was hard to believe that a thing of such beauty and elegance belonged to a complete monster. Nevertheless, it was Eric's soul.

The squirming vampire hissed loudly at his aggressor. "You may think that little trick with the sunlight was cunning, but in a few minutes the sun will set completely and I will have you then. My wounds will heal and then I will finish you."

"You're wrong. I have the one thing that can bring you to your knees," Will corrected.

Eric peeked out from under his protective cape. When he saw what Will was holding, his eyes became wide with horror. "How…how did _you_ get that?" he stammered.

Will smiled because he could feel victory coming over to his side. "I have connections," he said.

Trying to remember Calypso's instructions on how to perform the ritual, he firmly grasped the glass soul in one hand, circling his other hand over the top of the ball three times. Now was the time for the incantation; he prayed that he would get the words right, it was in Latin after all.

"Ego vocare a potestas a Deus tenus reverto hec digbolus animus!" As the words flowed from his mouth, he could feel power surging through him. It coursed up through his torso and down through his arms until all of the power was centered in the ball. At what he was sure was the right moment he threw the ball up in the air…except it didn't come back down.

Will and Eric stared at the ceiling where the glass ball seemed to be suspended in the air. The white smoke inside was moving so fast that it filled the entire ball, as if it was becoming denser and denser. All of a sudden the ball turned a bright blue that lit up the entire room. For a spilt second everyone was blinded.

Then in another flash of pure white light, the ball shattered, the pieces of glass vanishing into thin air. The wisps of smoke had become one large stream and it descended on Eric, penetrating right into his chest. If Will hadn't been Eric's archenemy, he may have had more sympathy for the vampire; a look of exquisite pain had come over his features and he was thrashing around on the ground, screaming.

Then to Will's amazement, Eric was lifted up in the air by some unseen force, his arms and legs falling limp, his torso formed into an arch. The look on his face made it seem like he was almost paralyzed. Black smoke started to seep out from the tips of his fingers and the tops of his feet. The smoke was also coming out of his mouth. It was like his body was being purged of the evil that had taken up residence there.

After the black smoke had left his body and vanished completely, Eric's body returned to the floor gently. As his head hit the ground he took in a deep breath of air, as if he hadn't done so in a very long time. Almost immediately afterward he started to weep like a little boy. Will was confused as to his sudden change in demeanor, but he didn't care either; as long as he wasn't trying to kill him or his family at the moment he was content to let him cry all he wanted.

Will left Eric and went over to Elizabeth who was not responsive to his touch. He cut her free from her bonds and picked her up, cradling her against his chest. Stroking her head, he cooed to her and tapped her face, trying to wake her up.

"Come on Elizabeth, wake up. You can't give up! Not now." He felt for a pulse on the non-bloody side of her neck. At first he thought he was too late, because he couldn't feel any beat beneath his fingertips, but an instant later he felt a weak pulse. His eyes filled with tears of relief and he kissed her forehead.

"Will…?" she asked weakly, her eyes fluttering open, but they were unable to stay that way very long.

"I'm here. It's going to be okay. Eric is indisposed right now. He's not going to hurt you anymore," he assured her.

Elizabeth opened her eyes again, managing to keep them open and look at her husband. "What happened? The last thing I remember is Eric turning Thomas into a vampire and then Thomas bit me."

"You passed out. Probably from losing so much blood. Here, sit down and let me look at your neck." He placed her back in the chair and crouched down, turning her head so he could look at the mess that was the side of her neck.

Elizabeth's hand reached up and captured his hand which was probing the tender area. "Is it really you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course it's me. Why wouldn't it be me?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"Eric…"

"Eric is right over there on the floor. Look."

Indeed, the former creature of the night was backed into a corner, rocking back and forth, crying and muttering to himself. Elizabeth couldn't understand why he was doing that but she also didn't care.

"It really is you," she stated, caressing the sides of his face. "But how…"

"Shh…I'll tell you another time," he responded.

Elizabeth brought his face to hers, gently kissing his lips while warm tears splashed down her face. Her husband had come back for her and saved her. She didn't know how it was possible, but right now she just accepted it for what it was. After a moment she pulled away, her thoughts leading her in another direction.

"What about Thomas?" she whispered.

The couple glanced over at the cage. The rabid beast that was their son was jumping around in the cage, pulling at the bars in an attempt to free himself.

Just then, another figure entered the room, although she didn't use the door, she just appeared. Calypso stood before them in all her glory, practically beaming with pride.

"You have done well, William Turner. But the sun has set. It is time for you to come back with me."

"What?" Elizabeth asked, not ready to give up her husband just yet. After all, this was the first time she had seen him in over seven years. "You can't possibly mean to take him from me right now."

"That was our bargain."

Will could tell that his wife was becoming upset, but he wanted her to save her strength. She had lost a lot of blood and needed rest more than anything right now. The last thing she needed was to be burdened with bad news.

Before he could calm her down and explain things, they heard a mumbling from behind them.

"You…" Eric's tone was almost accusing and he was pointing directly at the goddess. "It's you…"

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?" Calypso asked, more annoyed than curious.

"You're the one who did this to me. You were the one that created me. The dark witch. You took my soul away and made me into a monster. Don't you remember?" he asked. He was standing up now and had stepped into the light, but this time the sun's rays had no effect on him.

The man in front of them was no longer a monster. His pointed teeth had disappeared and his nails had shrunk. He wasn't as physically big as before either. He seemed like any other normal man, although he appeared to be a little more haggard than most. He looked like a man who had been through a terrible ordeal, tired and broken…not quite right.

"You are Tia Dalma are you not?" he questioned.

"That is what they used to call me. But I am really the goddess Calypso. And yes, I do remember you, Eric Sinclair. Although I must say you were much younger and scrawny when I last saw you. You were full of wonderful young hatred then."

"And look at what I became. A horrible, wretched monster! But now I am just a man with a guilty conscious."

"And this is somehow my fault?" she questioned, obviously believing she wasn't to blame for his current condition. "You were the one who came to me for help. You said you wanted to avenge your parent's deaths. I gave you that power, and now you say that I did you wrong?"

"You never told me what I would become!" he countered, advancing on the goddess, his shaking hands held out in front of him as if he could see the blood of all those he had murdered. "I didn't know that I would become a monster obsessed beyond all reason with hunting down and killing every person attached to my parent's deaths. I didn't know that I would become a serial killer!"

Will understood where Eric was coming from. Calypso always seemed to leave out crucial details or conditions when she promised something.

"I didn't force you to kill those people. It was your own choice. I only influenced you in your decision making. Their deaths are on your conscious, not mine. You were the foolish one. If you could not handle the power, you should not have asked for it. Besides, you got what you wanted. You killed nearly everyone responsible for your parent's murders. You should be thanking me," Calypso reprimanded.

Eric thought that this was a ludicrous idea. "Why would I thank you? You're the reason I feel so horrible right now. Killing all those people didn't help me to forget my parents; it only made me feel worse. I was taking other people's parents away from them, and I had no right to! I am a wretched, horrible creature. I am a disgrace to all humanity!" He was so consumed by his conviction that he fell to his knees, his head hung low and his hands covering his teary eyes.

"If you feel that badly, perhaps you should just do the world a favor and end your pathetic existence," the goddess suggested, walking past him to go and look at Thomas who was still thrashing around in the metal cage.

Eric took Calypso's suggestion to heart. He turned on his knees and looked up at Elizabeth with pleading eyes, which were no longer black, but had reverted to their original dark brown color.

"Please," he said, "Please do it. Take pity on me and the rest of the world and do away with me." Eric tried to grab onto Elizabeth's boot, but Will stepped in.

The captain of _The_ _Flying Dutchman_ had retrieved his sword, and he held it up in front of Eric. "I'd be more than happy to oblige you with your request," he stated, raising the sword higher and ready to deliver the lethal blow. Eric shut his eyes and bent his head, prepared for the strike.

"No," Elizabeth whispered from behind her husband, touching her hand to his forearm.

"What?" the two men said together—Will in confusion and Eric in disbelief.

"If anyone should give him his due, it should be me. Please," she said.

"But you're not strong enough. You need to rest. You shouldn't exert yourself…"

She interrupted his list of excuses as to why she couldn't kill Eric. "I have strength enough for this. Trust me. Give me the sword," she demanded.

Her husband relinquished the weapon hesitantly. Elizabeth stood up, her legs shaking beneath her with the intense effort it took to stand. She grasped the sword in her hand, its point digging into the dirt ground as she leaned upon it heavily. Eric was watching her with intent eyes, unsure of how he should react to her abrupt decision.

The weak woman barely holding herself up looked down upon her intended victim. She wanted nothing more than to take from him what he had attempted to take from her, to torture him as much as he had tortured her son, to put him in so much agony that he begged for her to end it.

But then she looked into the depths of his eyes and saw the anguish and regret that was there and knew that he was suffering already. She could see the young boy from her dreams who had witnessed his parent's brutal murder.

"Elizabeth?" Will asked when she continued to stand there staring at Eric.

She turned to face her husband, giving him an apologetic look. Then she returned her gaze to Eric, who also looked confused. "I can't do it," she stated, shaking her head and leaning on her husband for support.

"No, you must!" Eric demanded, a stunned expression on his face.

"I won't do it," she countered, looking deeply into her husband's eyes as if he were the only one she was speaking to. "Killing him won't solve anything. And I won't bring myself to his level." She failed to mention that the man groveling in front of her was also her half-brother—she thought that it would be better to explain that to Will at a later time.

Eric grabbed her ankles, nearly knocking her over. Will kicked him with the heel of his boot, putting distance between the kneeling man and themselves.

"Please…finish it," he begged as he touched his broken nose.

Elizabeth's pity turned to anger. She threw the sword down in front of him, the deadly weapon falling with a thud at Eric's knees. "If you do not wish to continue living, then you will be the one to end it. I will not take your life, Eric. You must do it yourself."

Just then Will shifted toward the man on the ground. Elizabeth put a hand on his chest, effectively stopping her husband. "No," she said gently in a voice just above a whisper. "Leave him be. It is up to him now."

Will was very obviously reluctant to do his wife's bidding by staying passive while the monster that had nearly killed her and his son was being let off the hook. He wanted nothing more than to just cut his throat, but he wrapped his arms around his wife and together they turned their backs on their adversary to take on a new opponent: Calypso.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Like I said before, sorry this was so long, although maybe you like long chapters. I don't really know. Unfortunately this story is coming to an end. I'll wrap it up in the next two sections. I hope that you are enjoying it. Leave me a review please!


	16. Chapter 15: The Restoration

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters that you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.**

_Author Note: _So this is technically the last chapter. It's also the longest. Thank you for reading and enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen:**

_**The Restoration**_

Will could feel Elizabeth's temper rising as she stared at the goddess. He was concerned that she would overexert herself if she decided to take on Calypso now; she was already breathing heavily and leaning on him as her main support. Yet, his feisty wife didn't seem in the mood to back down from a challenge.

Calypso seemed to sense that the animosity in the room was now being directed toward her. Slowly she turned away from Thomas' cage so that she was facing the couple.

"You don't look well at all Mrs. Turner. You should sit down for a spell," Calypso said. Her words were kind, but her voice was insincere.

"And when did you start caring about my well being?" Elizabeth questioned. She didn't believe that the immortal had ever shown compassion for anyone other than herself. "I'm sure that even if I dropped dead right now, your life would continue unaffected. After all, what is one mortal life? In fact, what are a hundred mortal lives to you? It doesn't matter. Does it?"

Calypso looked confused by her statements. "Are you trying to hint at something? If you are, I do not comprehend your intentions."

Elizabeth took a moment to breathe before answering. "Because of you, the people in my life have suffered. My mother was killed in front of me! Mr. Gibbs, my dear friend, was slaughtered by the monster you created. You took away my husband, leaving me to raise a child alone. And now, Thomas is a rabid beast who nearly killed me!"

Her energy was leaving her rapidly. Will was practically holding her up now, and her speech to Calypso was spoken in a vehement whisper because that was all she could manage. Each breath was a chore and her eyes had trouble staying open and focused.

"Elizabeth that's enough," he whispered into her ear. "You need rest, love."

However, the goddess in front of them was not about to let Elizabeth have the last word. "How is it that all of these troubles are my fault? It is not my fault that Davy Jones died and your husband took his place. I was not the one who put a sword through your mother or your friend. And yet you accuse me of these things. You lay blame on the wrong person."

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open and she glared at the goddess with all the hatred she could muster. "You created him…" she accused, pointing in the direction of Eric, who was still on the ground, looking at the sword. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes off of it. "If you hadn't given him power he couldn't control, none of this would have ever happened. As for Davy Jones…you may not have been the one to stab his heart and make Will captain, but you keep him away from me for ten years at a time! His son doesn't even know his father…and now maybe he never will…"

"Enough of this!" Calypso shouted. It was clear that Elizabeth's words were having an effect on the goddess. The only question was whether that effect was good or bad.

"I will not argue with a mortal!" the angry goddess stated. "Someone is needed to captain _The_ _Flying Dutchman_ and that man is your husband. I can't bring back anyone from the dead, and I can't do anything to help your son. It's tragic, yes, but you'll get used to it eventually. You have no choice but to accept your fate!"

The usually unemotional goddess was quite frazzled by the end of her decree, and she took a moment to fix her hair and brush a wrinkle out of her otherwise flawless dress. "Let's go Will. You have a ship to get back to and duties to carry out."

"No! You can't take him from me….Not yet…" Elizabeth whispered, too weak to protest in any other way. She clung to her husband both for physical support and as an objection to the goddess' order.

"The time has come. Will, I will not tell you again." Calypso's cold demeanor was back with a vengeance.

"No!" Elizabeth cried, not wanting her husband to leave. She was ready to pass out from exhaustion and overexertion; Will could tell. Elizabeth felt like her world was being ripped away from her and spinning out of control. She was in urgent need of a doctor, her son was a monster that tried to attack anything that had blood pumping through its body, and her former enemy and half-brother was sitting on the floor, still contemplating suicide.

"Who do you think you are to talk back to me?" Calypso stated, coming over to stand directly in front of the weak woman. Will turned his body to put himself between the two women. Neither one of them was being rational at the moment, which was not a good thing. He didn't want his wife getting injured any more than she already was. There was no telling what kind of punishment the disgruntled goddess would inflict on the woman defying her.

Still, Elizabeth wasn't willing to give up her husband without a fight. But she was too weak to protest and Will knew she had reached her limit for mortal endurance. In fact, she was probably a mile past that point. "I won't let you…take him…from me...Not again…" she stammered out in a hoarse whisper. A single tear streaked down her face, telling the world that she knew she was fighting a losing battle. She was just too stubborn—and proud—to admit defeat.

"And what are you going to do to stop me, exactly?" the goddess mocked, knowing that Elizabeth was in no condition to fight.

Just then, someone else entered the room. Everyone looked up to see who it was.

"I'm here to help!" Jack Sparrow proclaimed, brandishing his sword in one hand and his pistol in the other. His eyes immediately fell on Eric and he charged forward, sword raised to deliver the killing blow. The man on the floor made no movement to stop the pirate or protect himself.

"Jack! No!" Will shouted. He couldn't believe that he was saving the life of his former enemy. "He's human again."

The pirate looked at his friend in bewilderment. "That doesn't change what he did ta Gibbs…." he commented, anger flashing across his eyes. "Or your wife. Or Tom. He deserves ta die!"

"I agree with you whole heartedly," Will responded. "But Elizabeth doesn't want him dead. At least she doesn't want him killed by anyone's hand but his own. I respect her wishes, and so should you."

Eric made no attempt to sway either of the men to one side or the other. He simply sat there, staring at the sword on the floor.

"Aye. I'll agree with her wishes…fer now," he added. At that moment he seemed to take in the scene before him for the first time. He realized that Calypso was in the room. Thomas began thrashing around in the metal cage again, causing Jack to visibly jump. Then he looked over at Will holding Elizabeth, worry coming into his eyes.

"It's seems I've missed something important," he mumbled to himself as he sheathed his sword. "Elizabeth darling, ye look like hell," he commented.

"Jack?" Elizabeth said as she opened her eyes slightly, squinting to try and see her friend. That was all it took for her remaining energy to leave her and she passed out in Will's arms. He scooped her up and held her close to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

Jack smiled. "I have a way of doin' that ta the ladies," he stated warmly. He turned his attention to the goddess. "Calypso," he said, nodding his head in respect. "May I inquire as ta what you are doing here?"

"I've come to collect my servant," she answered. "Now Will, we must be going."

This time it was Will who was ready to protest, although he tried appealing to her empathy instead of blatantly disobeying her commands. "Please, don't make me leave when my wife is like this. She's lost a lot of blood and she needs care. I can't leave her when she's in this state."

"As I've said before, the _Dutchman_ needs a captain. That's you. Unless someone else would want to take your place…" she said, casting a meaningful glance at Jack.

"Sorry William. As tempting as that sounds, with the immortal life and all, I've decided that I like living as a mortal. Knowing yer going ta live forever takes the fun out of life. There's no risk," Jack explained.

He strode over to Thomas' cage and stuck a finger through the bars. The demon child immediately tried to bite it with its sharp fangs. Jack removed his finger at once. "What happened ta him?" he questioned.

Calypso turned back to Will with a knowing smile. "You see? No one will take your place willingly, so you must return to your ship or suffer the consequences of your actions and become the same unholy demon as Davy Jones."

"I will take his place."

All eyes spun around to where Eric was sitting on the ground. He was no longer looking at the sword, but at the assembled people. Slowly, he stood up. "I will take his place as captain of _The_ _Flying Dutchman_."

"You would be willing to sacrifice your freedom for a man that was just recently your enemy?" Calypso prodded, incredulous to this turn in events.

He nodded. "It is the least I can do. I am indebted to him and his wife's family for the rest of my days. If this will help them in some way, I will do it. Besides, I realize now that everyone's soul should have a chance to find peace. I would like to help guide their souls to a final destination."

The goddess took a moment to think about the man's offer. "Fine. It is done," she exclaimed. "William Turner you are free from your duties to _The_ _Flying_ _Dutchman_. Eric Sinclair, you are to come with me. Now."

The former vampire walked over to the goddess and stood by her side. He looked over at Will who was still holding Elizabeth. "I am truly sorry for what I have done to you and your family. I do not expect forgiveness, but I hope that this helps to show you that I am sincere in my apologies." Before Will could answer the man, Calypso touched her hand to his shoulder and they were both gone in a flash of blue light.

The two pirates stood next to each other, staring at the spot Calypso and her charge had just vacated. Will adjusted Elizabeth in his arms. Thomas had calmed down for the moment, having used a lot of his energy trying to escape from his prison.

"So what are we going ta do about these two?" Jack asked.

"Elizabeth needs a doctor, or a healer. As for Thomas, I don't know that anyone can help him now. Calypso said that she couldn't do anything for him, and if a goddess can't do anything to help, then who can?"

"I may know someone," Jack stated, a smile coming to his face.

* * *

The next day, they set out. Will had dressed Elizabeth's wounds to the best of his abilities, but although the bleeding had stopped, she still hadn't woken up. The only indication that she was still alive was the fact that she was breathing and she had a pulse.

Jack had gone out the night before and gathered some plants from the nearby forest. He made some type of pasty mixture out of these plans and made Thomas eat it. The mixture was a sedative of some sort; Thomas passed out soon after ingesting it.

The pair made it to the town just after midday, transporting the two unconscious bodies on a wagon pulled by a donkey that Jack had also procured in the night. Will didn't ask where he had found such commodities or how he had acquired them. He had a good idea in his mind though.

They made their way down to the docks where Jack's schooner was still located. Carefully transferring Elizabeth and her son from the wagon, they boarded the vessel.

"Ahoy there mates," came a familiar voice from the stern of the ship.

"Gibbs?" Jack asked, nearly dropping Thomas on his head.

"Mr. Gibbs. What are you doing here?" Will questioned.

The deceased pirate came down the stairs and helped them with their burdens. They put Elizabeth in the captain's cabin on the bed. She seemed to be unresponsive to what was going on around her. It worried her husband and her friends.

It was difficult to find a place to keep Thomas because when he woke up he would be a dangerous monster again. Reluctantly, they decided to put him in the hold's cell, where Eric had previously been kept. Gibbs boarded up the hole that was in the side of the ship while Jack fixed a pallet for the boy and placed some food and water inside of the cell. Will gently laid his son down on the pallet. Now that he was sleeping, he looked like a normal little boy. He could only hope that his son wouldn't be a monster forever and that Jack's friend could help them.

After everything was done, Gibbs started to explain why he was on Jack's schooner. "Captain Sinclair sent me here. Ye know, now that he's not a raving monster, he's not so bad. He has a lot ta learn about sailing though. I've taken on that task personally, but he sent me ta see ye first." Gibbs pulled a jar out of his pocket. Inside was a yellow-flowered plant. Will stuck out his hand to receive the jar, but Gibbs pushed it into Jack's chest.

"Make sure she gets this. It will help with the ritual," he said mysteriously. Will was confused, but Jack seemed to know what the pirate was talking about because he nodded in understanding.

"Gibbs…" Jack started, "I'm sorry fer not havin' yer back. Ye know…when it happened. I should have been there." He couldn't look his friend in the eyes.

"I fergive ye Jack. Don't blame yerself," the older pirate responded. He embraced the two men, clapping them on the back in fellowship. "I'd best be going now. My duty is done here. That and I'd better get back ta the ship before that idiot Sinclair runs _The_ _Dutchman_ aground…again." They all shared a laugh and said goodbye to the old man before he went on his way.

Soon the schooner was under way, headed for its home port in Port Royal.

* * *

Elizabeth's eyes opened languidly. The objects around her were out of focus and hazy. It was dark. She didn't know where she was. She could feel herself sinking into a comfortable mattress, and she could hear people talking around her. There was a soothing sort of smell in the air. It was smoke for sure, but there was an herbal scent to it. The smell was familiar and comforting although Elizabeth couldn't remember where she knew it from. She closed her eyes to the welcome scent and soon she was sleeping again.

The next time she opened her eyes the room was sunny and bright. Her vision was clearer and she recognized whose house she was in just as the owner walked into the room.

Madame Harriet stood in the doorway, a calm expression on her face. Her lips curled up into a smile as soon as she saw that Elizabeth was conscious. "You're awake. Good." She had a tray in her hand with a bowl and glass on it.

"How long have I been sleeping? When did I get here? _How_ did I get here?" Elizabeth asked the questions in rapid succession, but stopped when Harriet held up her hand.

"I am sure that you have a million questions, and they will all be answered in time, but there is no need to rush. You still need to rest. You aren't fully recovered." The fortuneteller came over to the side of the bed and set the tray down on a stand next to it. She firmly pushed Elizabeth back against the pillows. The younger woman was in no mood to protest and fell back against the plush pillows as she was told.

"Here, you must be starving," Harriet said as she lifted the bowl to Elizabeth's lips. It smelled divine; some sort of chicken broth. Her stomach growled and she quickly drank the liquid in the bowl. Her insides warmed as the broth went to her stomach.

"You've been asleep for nearly four days," Madame Harriet began. "You gave us all quite a scare." She gave Elizabeth the cup of goat's milk—which the young woman greedily drank—before she continued. "Your husband will be sorry that he missed you waking up."

"Will!" Elizabeth exclaimed, choking on the milk. "Where is he? Has Calypso taken him back with her yet?" She sat up quickly intending to get out of bed, but all her action did was make her head spin.

"Calm down child. Your husband isn't with that troublesome goddess. He went out to the market to get some herbs I didn't have here. He should be back shortly. Now, lay back down before you pass out again."

Elizabeth did as she was told only because she was so relieved to know that her husband hadn't been forced back to the _Flying Dutchman_. "Wait. Why did Calypso let him stay with me? Certainly it wasn't out of the kindness of her heart."

"No," the dark skinned woman agreed. "A lot has happened since you've been unconscious." Then Harriet began to tell her everything that had taken place, from Eric replacing Will aboard _The_ _Dutchman_, to how Elizabeth had ended up at her home. She also told her about her son's condition.

"So…he can be cured?" she asked for clarification. "There's hope that he might not be a monster for the rest of his life?"

Madame Harriet nodded. "Yes. He hasn't taken the life of any living thing yet, so he hasn't been completely turned. If we perform the ritual soon, there is a good chance that we can change him back into the happy little boy he used to be before all of this chaos happened."

The front door opened and closed quietly. Several feet could be heard shuffling in the entryway of the fortuneteller's home. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat; Will was back. Harriet had to restrain her again and threaten to not let her see her husband before the younger woman agreed to stay in bed and not overexert herself.

"Madame Harriet? I've got the herbs and a few other things I thought might help," Will said as the older woman walked into the entryway to meet him and Jack.

"Took you long enough," Harriet complained as she rifled through the things he had brought. "These look good. You've done well, Mr. Turner. Now, I've got wonderful…"

"How is she? Has there been any change since I've been gone?" he asked anxiously, trying to peer into the bedroom, but the wall blocked his line of sight.

"Good grief. You and your wife must be a destined couple. You're both impatient beyond belief and too eager to listen to anything anyone else has to say. Now, as I was saying, I have good news. She's awake and…"

"Here," Elizabeth stated, standing on wobbly legs and leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom. Her soft cotton shift stopped just above her knees and her hair was uncombed and wild from being in bed for four days. Although she knew she must look like a disaster, she smiled lovingly at her husband who stood with his mouth hanging open.

"I told you to stay in bed!" Harriet reprimanded, shaking a finger in the stubborn woman's direction.

Will put a hand on Harriet's shoulder to calm her down but he never took his eyes off his wife. "I'll put her to bed, Madame. And I'll make sure she stays there this time," he assured her, winking at the older woman as he advanced on his wife. He scooped her up in his muscular arms as if she were weightless.

Elizabeth touched her lips to his, and he returned her kiss ardently. In a matter of seconds he could feel his knees start to go weak with passion. It had been a very long time since he had seen his wife. He moved into the bedroom with her in his arms while their tongues teased each other.

"She is not to exert herself Mr. Turner!" Harriet called after the couple.

Will laid Elizabeth down on the plush mattress, and then crawled in between her open legs, kneeling there and planting soft kisses along the neckline of her shift. "Don't worry," he responded to Harriet while grinning mischievously at his wife, "I'll make certain she doesn't lift a finger."

* * *

Night descended around the house, yet Elizabeth was anything but tired. She felt that she had slept long enough to stay awake for days without rest. She lay there, curled up in her husband's strong arms, just stroking them. It felt so good to have him back with her. She had missed him for so long that she hadn't been sure she would ever feel whole again, but now that he was here, the missing piece of her heart was back in place and she reveled in the feeling she got just being close to him.

Unsteady footsteps could be heard outside of the bedroom. Jack slowly made his way into the room, one hand covering his eyes, the other stretched out in front of him so that he wouldn't bump into anything. Elizabeth pulled the cover over herself more in an attempt to be modest—a sentiment her husband did not share. He was lying next to her, completely naked, his arm slung across her midsection and a satisfied smile on his face.

"What is it Jack?" he asked groggily.

"Harriet says it's time ta perform the ritual if ye two aren't indisposed at the moment. Yer not, are ye?" the pirate inquired, spreading his fingers widely and peeking through them to see what was going on.

"Jack Sparrow!" Elizabeth exclaimed, taking one of the pillows from behind her head and tossing it at the openly unmannered pirate. He smiled childishly at her response and covered his eyes again.

"Tell Harriet we'll be right there," stated Will.

Jack started to exit the room saying, "Don't rush. It's only yer son's life that we're dealin' with here. Nothin' ta fret over." Elizabeth threw another pillow at him for that comment.

"We'll be there in a moment," she concurred. Once the pirate had left, both adults got dressed quickly, although Elizabeth simply put the discarded shift back on; it was too much work to dress in her normal attire.

Once they were clothed they went into the fortuneteller's dining quarters. All of the furniture had been moved out of the room, leaving just the wood floor. On it, the older woman had drawn a star inside of a circle. The center of the star created a perfect pentagon, and in the middle of the pentagon was Thomas, unconscious for the moment.

In one corner of the room was a small pile of miscellaneous items. Madame Harriet was standing over them with some type of incense and mumbling incoherent words; she looked as though she were blessing them. In another corner of the room stood a group of men, all of whom Elizabeth recognized. Jack, Mr. Gibbs, and Eric Sinclair were all present. She looked at them in confusion.

"I don't understand," she said. "What is all this for? What are you doing here? Especially you," she added, nodding in Eric's direction.

"We were summoned here by Madame Harriet," Eric replied. "We are needed to perform some sort of ritual for your son."

"And Calypso just let you come here?" she asked skeptically.

"Well…no. It took a lot to convince her to let me come for a short visit. But when I mentioned William Turner's name, she conceded. It would seem that she has a soft spot where you are concerned Mr. Turner. She told me to relay a message to you actually. She said, 'You have never betrayed me, so I will not betray you now in your time of need.'" Eric finished the message just as Madame Harriet finished blessing the items on the floor.

"I hope you haven't worn her out," she told Will. "She's going to need all the strength she has for this."

"Just like I promised, Madame, my wife didn't lift a finger all afternoon…or all evening," he reassured the woman as he lifted the palm of Elizabeth's hand to his lips. She turned a deep red in reaction to his words and actions. The rest of the company smiled, except Harriet, who shook her head.

"Let's get this started before the child awakes," she said. Walking over to the pile of items on the floor, she picked them up and started handing them out to everyone. She gave Jack a small jar of the red salt that Elizabeth and her friends had used on their travels to protect themselves from Eric. To Gibbs she gave a rusty key. Will was given Elizabeth's heart shaped locket that she had not seen since the night she had found Thomas. Eric received a normal kitchen knife that held no specific importance to Elizabeth.

Finally, Madame Harriet picked up a delicate yellow flower and handed it to the younger woman. She grasped it with care, analyzing it. Its sunshine yellow petals were shaped like the wings of a butterfly and its center was blood red. The flower was both beautiful and mysterious, but Elizabeth didn't understand its importance.

"Now, Jack you stand here. You represent Earth," Harriet told him as she directed him to a point of the star. "Eric, you are here and symbolize Fire. Do you remember what you are to do?" she asked.

He nodded in response and stood where he was instructed.

"Mr. Gibbs, you stand opposite to Jack. You are Air," Harriet claimed. "And Mr. Turner, you stand for Water. Stand there," she added, indicating the point next to Eric. The fortuneteller motioned for Elizabeth to follow her to the head of the star.

"You my dear, stand here."

"And what am I?" Elizabeth asked.

"The most important element," Harriet responded. "You represent Spirit."

Elizabeth looked around at the other people standing at the points of the stars. Each held their items in their hands, all traces of mirth gone. Eric was staring at the unconscious Thomas and she could see the pain reflected in his chocolate brown eyes. Elizabeth held up her flower and looked at it again. Perhaps she was missing something…

"Madame Harriet?" she asked. "I don't understand the importance of the items, or why mine is a flower….I assume they are important in some way…but I don't see how these simple things can help my son."

Harriet was stirring something together in a bowl. It smelled horrible and didn't look much better. After a moment of silence, the woman answered her. "In order for your son to resume his normal state, the evil inside of him must be drawn out and his true self must be guided back to its rightful place. The items you are holding each represent something that will aid that process."

"Ye mean this salt has some sort of magical power ta restore Tom's soul?" Jack asked, holding the jar up and examining the contents.

The fortuneteller shook her head as she continued to stir the putrid mixture in the bowl. "It is not the salt that has the power Jack. The salt is merely a symbol for something else. It is the symbol that has the power. That jar of salt symbolizes protection. Your locket," she added turning to Will, "symbolizes love."

"And what does a flower symbolize?" Elizabeth asked, trying to get an answer. The odor coming from the bowl was enough to make her lightheaded.

"That is a very special flower you have there. It represents the soul. You see its shape? A butterfly. Since the beginning of time, the butterfly has been a symbol for the soul. Although the flower is obviously not a real butterfly, it will serve the same purpose. It's a tad challenging to find butterflies at this time of the year," Harriet explained.

"Now, each of you must do exactly as I tell you to, when I tell you to. You will each be placing your items on the point you are standing on," the fortuneteller instructed.

"Isn't he goin' ta try and attack us once he wakes up?" Gibbs asked, indicating Thomas with a tilt of his head.

"You cannot be harmed as long as you stand outside of the circle," Harriet assured him. "He cannot leave the confines of the circle. You must not be afraid. He will try and break free, and you may witness many other terrible things, but you must not be afraid."

Just then, the child in the middle of the floor started to stir. A soft whimpering came from the back of his throat, but as he woke up, the sound turned into more of a growl. Slowly, it rose to its knees.

"You mentioned that we had to draw the evil out of him. How exactly does that happen?" Will questioned, looking at his son with cautious eyes.

"With this," the old woman said, scooping a small amount of the rancid smelling mixture out of the bowl with her hand and waving it in the direction of the monster child. "Now, all of you lift you arms and hold your palms toward one another, creating a circle with your arms."

They did as they were told. Thomas had picked up on the scent of the mixture. His pupils had glazed over with delight and he looked around for the source of the smell. Yet through his body language the assembled people could tell that he knew something was wrong; the evil inside of him knew this was a trap of some sort.

Still the delicious scent of the mixture was too tempting and he started to move toward it. Harriet stood in-between Gibbs and Will, moving her hand around to spread the smell. The boy glanced up at the two men, but then turned his attention back to the woman with the alluring concoction.

"That's it…come on," Harriet said in a sweet voice.

As soon as the boy came within an inch of the circle barrier he was expelled back with a powerful thrust that seemed to come from nowhere. He was sent flying back into the middle of the pentagon. But he wasn't the only one that was stunned; everyone, except Harriet, was just as shocked as the monster.

"What was that?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Hush," Madame Harriet snapped. She nodded in Jack's direction. "Put the jar down on the point of the star, and then all of you repeat what I say three times. Do not pay attention to what the child is doing."

Jack slowly lowered the jar of red salt onto the point of the star, placing it on the line of the circle. Then he stood back up and resumed his previous position.

"Protection is given to he that cannot protect himself," Harriet stated in a loud, firm voice. The others repeated the phrase three times as instructed in the same tone the fortuneteller had used.

Thomas was standing in the middle of the pentagon, a confused expression on his face. He turned in circles as the five people around the room repeated Madame Harriet's words. Then, a sudden pain seemed to overtake him and the child doubled over, moaning in pain.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed as she gazed upon her son. She didn't want him to get hurt, but she trusted Madame Harriet as well. She also believed that the process of ridding her son of the evil that was inside of him was not going to be pain-free. After all, his transformation into this beast was anything but painless.

When Thomas looked up again, a seething anger was in his eyes. Madame Harriet had moved between Gibbs and Elizabeth now and was offering her son more of the disgusting mixture. It looked like spoiled milk, but had more of a grainy texture. The boy was eyeing it warily, not wanting to repeat the same mistake twice.

"It's going to be quick after this," the old woman mumbled in a low voice to the surrounding people. "Be ready."

She placed the bowl with the remaining mixture on the floor and tapped it just inside of the circle with a push of her toe. The evil inside of her son couldn't resist and the monster sprang toward the bowl.

A resulting crash sounded as the invisible barrier of the circle sent the child careening back into the center of the pentagon. This time, he wasted no time in getting back up. Harriet pointed to Gibbs, who placed the key down on ground just as Jack had done. Thomas ran at Gibbs as he was bent over, but the force-field sent him flying backwards again before he could touch the pirate. The monster inside her son was furious and let out a loud bellow.

"Freedom is given to he who is trapped," Harriet proclaimed. As the people of the circle repeated her words, she pointed at Eric.

Eric took the knife in his right hand and cut a line down the center of his left palm. He knelt down and smeared the blood across the line of the circle, just as the others finished their chant.

"Contrition is given to he who has been wronged." Harriet's voice was growing in volume and so the other five repeated her words with more fervor.

The child inside of the pentagon was throwing himself around, spinning on the ground and pulling at his hair. He was screaming incoherent words and scratching himself with his nails. Drops of blood landed on the floor and his white shirt had lines of red were he had left his marks. It was obvious the thing before them was in pain, but along with its pain there was immense anger.

Elizabeth was becoming extremely worried for the well-being of her son. If the evil inside of him continued to injure her son's body, he might not be strong enough to recover from the attack. She looked over at Madame Harriet, her eyes pleading.

"Stay focused. It is almost finished," she said above the screams. "Give the evil thing no heed. It is trying to gain your sympathy. Mr. Turner, it is your time."

Will opened the locket so that the portraits of Thomas and himself were shown. He laid the golden object down on the center of the line just as everyone else had done and stood back up. When he did so, Thomas was directly in front of him, ready to strike out at his father. His pupils were dilated to the point that no white could be seen, just black glassy orbs.

The monster lashed out at Will, coming within an inch of his face, but again he was thrown back by the invisible barrier. Will had to look away, disturbed by the image of his son trying to kill him while looking him in the eyes. Once the child had risen from the ground, he started screaming again and thrashing around.

"Love is given to he who has drifted away!" Harriet yelled over his roars. As one voice the others screamed this as well. Elizabeth felt a power surge through her at that instant. She wasn't sure if she was the only one that had experienced it, but the feeling was consuming and intense.

Harriet nodded in her direction and she placed the delicate flower on the floor.

"A spirit is given to he who as misplaced his own," Harriet said loudly and clearly. The company repeated this last phrase three times and watched Thomas with anxious expressions.

The child was bent over on all fours in the center of the pentagon, heaving and gulping for air. Then he suddenly fell to the ground and rolled over on his back in convulsions. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and every limb was shaking. Everyone watched, not knowing what to do.

Elizabeth couldn't stand it anymore. She had to do something to help her son. "This isn't working!" she yelled at no one in particular. "There must be something we're missing. Something more we can do!"

Harriet shook her head. "This is all I know how to do. As far as I know, we did everything correctly." The older woman rubbed her forehead in contemplation.

Thomas stopped thrashing around and became very still. No one in the room made a sound; most of them didn't even seem to be breathing. All eyes turned to the child on the floor. Elizabeth's heart was beating so fast that she thought it might burst.

"Thomas?" she said. There was no response from the child. Elizabeth looked at her husband across the circle and saw the concern in his eyes. He didn't think this was good either. Something was wrong.

Without another thought, Elizabeth stepped into the circle. Harriet started to protest and call her back, but she ignored the fortuneteller. She crept forward a few steps, never taking her eyes off of her son's face. She bent down and stretched out her hand to stroke her son's hair.

"Thomas?" she asked again, her voice shaking with emotion.

Suddenly the child's eyes snapped open, but they were not the warm, kind eyes of her son; they were the eyes of the monster that had taken residence inside of his body. He lunged at her, going for the uncovered flesh of her neck. Elizabeth threw up her hands in front of her to block him. As a result he scratched the palm of her hand and not the delicate skin on her neck.

The injured mother struggled to get away from her son. Will made a move to go and retrieve his wife, but Harriet prohibited him from doing so. Elizabeth was forced to kick the child off of her and then scramble back. She crossed the line of the circle just as her son charged at her again. He ran into the barrier and returned to the center of the pentagon, breathing heavily with exertion.

"I don't understand why this is not working," Harriet muttered to herself, running her hands over her black hair. Then her eyes fell on the flower at Elizabeth's feet. "Perhaps it is the flower."

"What?" Gibbs asked. "What do ye mean, it's the flower?"

"The flower was a replacement for the butterfly. Perhaps it is not strong enough on its own."

"But I thought ye said that the objects didn't have any power," Jack commented.

"They don't…" Harriet reiterated, still thinking about the situation.

All of a sudden an idea popped into Elizabeth's head. She grabbed the flower off of the floor and stood up.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked.

"I'm going to give my son his soul back," she explained, looking over in Madame Harriet's direction. The old woman seemed to understand what Elizabeth meant to do and nodded her approval.

"Get back into position," the fortuneteller said, coming over to take Elizabeth's spot. "This just might work," she said to the determined mother.

With that, Elizabeth walked back into the center of the circle.

"No!" Will protested.

"Leave her be," Harriet warned.

"But she's not strong enough to keep fighting him. He could hurt her."

"She will do what she has to do," the fortuneteller said.

Thomas jumped at his mother, nails and teeth ready to inflict harm. She dodged his advances as best as she could, but he caught her a few times with his nails. Elizabeth held onto the yellow flower tightly with one hand and grabbed her son's right shoulder with her left hand. His claw-like fingernails dug into her shoulder, but she bit back her shout of pain. Pulling him closer to her, she put the flower up to his heart and pressed it against his chest with her bloody palm.

The monster took advantage of her closeness and bit into the thin flesh of her neck. Elizabeth cried out, but she managed to bring her mouth to her son's ear.

"A spirit is given to he who has misplaced his own," she whispered, pressing the flower onto his chest with as much strength as he could.

There was a sudden burst of white light and high-pitched screaming. Elizabeth and Thomas were pushed back from each other and flew in opposite directions. The rest of the people in the room were also thrown off balance by the blast of white energy and when the brilliant light had faded, everyone was on the floor.

Will and Jack were the first to rise and immediately went over to Elizabeth's side, helping her to sit up. Gibbs was likewise assisting Madame Harriet. Eric rose slowly and walked over to the fallen child who had been flung against a wall of the room.

"Did it work?" Elizabeth asked, wincing in pain as her husband applied pressure to the wound on her neck.

"I'm not sure," he said truthfully.

Eric half-lifted and half-dragged Thomas over to where his mother was seated. "He has a pulse and he's breathing. At least we know he's alive," he said, trying to be optimistic for her sake.

Elizabeth pushed Will's busy hands away and leaned over her son's body.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," her husband said, trying to pull her back. He thought it would be better to be a safe distance from the monster if their son was still in that condition. Elizabeth wouldn't listen to him.

"I know it worked," she muttered as she stroked his hair. "It had to have worked."

Thomas moved his head from side to side as he started to come to. Everyone in the room tensed. Now was the moment of truth. Elizabeth continued to stroke his face as he woke up.

Finally he opened his eyes and looked around, bewildered by what was going on around him.

"Mum?" he asked in a scratchy voice.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Well this is basically the end of the story, except for the epilogue, which you should read. I really hope that you liked the story and thought it was interesting. Even if only one other person likes this story, my goal will be accomplished. I would love it if you left me a review to tell me what you thought. Is there something that I could add to make it better? Should I take something out? Tell me your thoughts. I will also read constructive criticism, but flames are not appreciated. Thank you so much for taking your time to read this. If you didn't read my stories, I wouldn't write them.

By the way, I did write a reunion scene of sorts for Will and Elizabeth, but it was much too explicit to post here. I wasn't going to be kicked off for posting it. If you really want to read it--and it is really pure smut--I'd be more than happy to send it to you. Members can establish a connection with me using the DocX application (although I confess that I haven't used it yet and may not know what I am doing). Non-members can e-mail me with "Extended Scene" in the subject line. My e-mail is on my bio-page. Thanks.


	17. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the movies or the characters you recognize. I am making no money off of this story.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

"Mum!" Thomas yelled from the docks. He ran across the wooden planks and up the gravel path to the red brick manor-house. Standing in front of the large open windows he shouted his news. "They're here! They're here! The ship just docked. Come on!" He only stayed in front of the house long enough to announce the ship's arrival and then sprinted back to the dock.

"I'd like to imagine that, under normal circumstances, he would have been this happy to see me come home," Will said to his wife as he got up from his desk.

"I'm sure he would have been even more energetic," Elizabeth assured him with a smile. She walked over to a white wooden crib on the other side of the room. "I hate to wake her, but I don't think she'll want to miss this," she said as she lifted the sleeping toddler out of the crib with tender hands.

Will came over to the pair and gently laid a kiss on his daughter's forehead before placing another kiss on his wife's lips. "Come on. We don't want to keep family waiting."

By the time they reached the docks, the golden-haired toddler in Elizabeth's arms was squirming in an attempt to get free. The _Flying Dutchman_ was safely tethered to the dock and the gangplank had been lowered. Will greeted many of the crewmen as they descended from the ship since he knew most of them from his time as the _Dutchman's _captain. Finally they saw who they were looking for.

"Uncle Gibbs! Uncle Eric!" Thomas cried, running up the gangplank and bumping into a few of the sailors who were still coming off of the vessel. Eric greeted him with open arms and lifted the child into the air.

"Oomph!" he exclaimed. "I think you're getting a little too big for this my boy." He set the child down on the deck and patted his head. Thomas turned to Gibbs and hugged him, his short arms unable to wrap around the old pirate fully.

"Good ta see ya Tom," Gibbs said. "Ye look taller than the last time I saw ya."

"Well I grew a lot since last year," Thomas told him proudly, standing up tall.

The trio walked down the gangplank to where the rest of the family was standing. Everyone took a moment to embrace each other or shake hands. Gibbs had taken the toddler out of Elizabeth's arms and was tossing her up in the air and catching her. The little girl was shrieking with laughter and her smile was instantaneously infectious.

"I can't believe little Emily is almost three," Eric said, gazing at the child with warm eyes.

"Neither can we," Elizabeth agreed. Gibbs handed the child back to its mother. "She's getting so big, so fast."

"Don't say that," Gibbs commented. "It makes me feel old."

"Mr. Gibbs, you're dead," Eric rationalized. "You can't get any older."

The old pirate pretended to take offense to the captain's comments. "I know that. But it feels that way in me mind. So Will," he said, turning the conversation in another direction, "how has your first year as gov'ner of Port Royal been? No serious trouble I hope."

"Well, it's interesting that you should say that…" Will began.

His wife put a hand on his shoulder, interrupting before the proud man could start retelling their trials and triumphs of the past year. "There will be plenty of time to exchange stories. Let's go up to the house. I'd imagine that you would like to rest and eat something before we start exchanging tales. I'm sure you have a lot to tell us." Elizabeth turned toward the house before anyone could challenge her decree.

"Wait," Eric replied. "We have a surprise for all of you first."

"A surprise?" Will asked hesitantly. "We're not very fond of surprises."

"You'll like this one," Gibbs assured, and then he whistled up to the deck of the ship.

A familiar figure strode into sight and down the gangplank. The Turner family was clearly surprised. Only the little girl in Elizabeth's arms didn't recognize the man standing before them.

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked. "Why…? How…?"

"Are you dead?" Will questioned blatantly, staring at his friend with a worried expression. It had been nearly three years since they had last seen their friend.

The pirate scoffed at the idea and started to laugh. "Course I'm not dead. I'm Jack Sparrow," he reminded them all, as if his name was enough to ward off death.

"Then why were you on that ship?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Well, ye see. There's a bit of a story ta that," Jack said, grinning. "Long story short, I got in ta a speck of trouble and I was lucky enough ta happen upon these gents," he explained.

"What he means to say is that we rescued him," Eric put in.

"I'll tell ya all the details over supper. Now come on, we don't want the food ta get cold," he said, ignoring the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ and walking toward the manor-house.

"I have a feeling it's going to be a very long night," Elizabeth said to Will. He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. Together with the pirates and their son they made their way back to the manor-house.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Okay so that really is the end. I just thought it needed a cute, fluffy, optimistic ending after all the crap I put them through. Once again, thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated, especially positive ones, but I'm willing to acknowledge constructive criticism as well. Happy reading!


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